Undertow
by mistcoveredmountains
Summary: An Undertow is a strong current flowing under water in a different direction to the way the water on the surface is moving. It's hard to fight. You usually just get swept along with it. HGDM romance - read it! You wont find anything else like it.
1. Something's different

Can't Fight the Undertow

Cold September sunlight crept through her curtains as she awoke, a beautiful day had begun. Jumping out of bed, she went up to the window and threw back the drapes, bathing herself in the beautiful natural light. Everything was perfect.

"Granger! Don't leave your girly stuff in the bathroom please, it's bad enough I have to see you everyday, let alone seeing your tampons too!"

Almost everything was perfect.

Hermione sighed as she shut her door, ignoring Malfoy's ranting outside. Shaking her head condescendingly she got dressed into her uniform, and, while neatly adjusting her tie, walked out of her room and nonchalantly past a very irritated Malfoy.

"Can't you her me you stupid girl? Clear your stuff out of there I want to shave – are you deaf mudblood?" Malfoy yelled rudely, his cold grey eyes burning with hate as he looked at the bushy haired muggleborn.

At the word 'mudblood', Hermione ceased ignoring Malfoy and turned to face him.

"Don't you EVER call me that you foul little ferret, unless you want me to hex your arse into oblivion?" Hermione threatened, staring back at Malfoy with equal intensity.

This had been the daily routine ever since they had begun in the seventh year as Head Boy and Head Girl. Why Hermione had been elected as Head Girl was a mystery to nobody. She had exceeded expectations in every subject, done extra credit work and been an extremely conscientious Prefect in previous years. However, why Malfoy had been elected was definitely a mystery indeed, especially to Hermione.

Once she had removed her 'girly stuff' from the bathroom, she set off for the Great Hall, but as soon as she climbed out of the portrait hole was met with an immense bear hug from a one fiery haired and one raven haired boy. Catching her breath she hugged her two friends back.

"Great to see you Hermione! How was your Summer Holiday? I stayed with Ron-" Harry exclaimed

"Yeah! We had a blast! Did a lot of quality flying-" Ron spouted cheerfully

"It was great to be on a broom again, even learned some new moves-"

"Seen Fred and George's new shop yet? _Weasley's Wizard Wheezes? _They're already earning a pile-"

"Felt so free to be in the sky again. Did you know there's a new broom coming out soon?-"

Hermione didn't even try to take in all this new information, she just felt so great to be with her two best friends again, not a Malfoy in sight. As Ron regaled her about all the happenings in his family and showed her how much his biceps were developing, Harry went on and on about broomsticks. Not much had changed, really.

They went into the Hall and met with all their other old friends. Things were great, just like old times, as the boys stuffed their faces and they all talked to the other Gryffindors about the summer, the new students, anything and everything. And though everything felt normal and happy, Hermione couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. She couldn't quite put her finger on why, but suddenly the reason hit her as she looked over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was staring at her, a strange little vacant smirk on his face. Lots of people were talking animatedly o him but he never once took his focus of Hermione.

Hermione shuddered slightly as she turned away from his gaze, but couldn't concerntrate on anything else because she could feel his cold stare in the back of her head all the time.

"I've got to go, see you two in Transfiguration, okay?" Hermione said as she abruptly left the Gryffindor table, she couldn't stand the way Malfoy was staring at her.

She went back up to her dorm and collected her school stuff together and threw her bag over her shoulder. As she staggered out of her bedroom door, she crashed into something very solid and fell backwards.

"Watch it Granger. I'd rather you didn't touch my robes, they _are_ new and very expensive you know." Malfoy said snobbishly, looking down on Hermione's angry little persona below him.

"Go away Malfoy, it was an accident. Since when do you think I care about your damn robes?" Hermione retorted as she got back onto her feet, rubbing her back.

Malfoy just made an indistinct noise, sort of like a little chuckle, but not exactly. Then he left the room leaving a very confused Hermione behind. Why didn't he say some rude comment back? Perhaps about her muggle parentage or her bushy hair? She'd never seen him just walk away before.

As she smoothed down her hair and climbed into the portrait hole, Hermione could tell. Despite his ubiquitous rudeness and annoying little smirk, something about Draco Malfoy had definitely changed this year, and even though she didn't know it yet, she was about to find out what very soon indeed.


	2. Same Old Malfoy

Same Old Malfoy

Transfiguration passed with little occurrence. Professor McGonagall was not starting with her 7th years lightly and didn't hold back at all when it came to homework.

"There goes my weekend - 12 inches on inter-species transfiguration? She must be joking." Ron exclaimed in despair as they left the classroom.

"Yeah I know, I thought she'd go easy on us first week back." Harry sighed as he surveyed his badly-written transfiguration notes.

"If you wish to fail your examinations next year, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, I would seriously advise you to work hard, despite time of year," Said a cool voice from behind them making an unsuspecting Ron shudder violently. "Off with you, now." And with that Professor McGonagall shooed them out of her classroom.

"We've got Divination next, worse luck, what about you Herm?" Ron asked, taking a large textbook entitled "Look Into My Eyes" from his bag.

"Ahh, Arithmacy with good old Professor Vector. Have fun you two!" Hermione smiled smugly, for she loved Arithmacy and knew how much Ron and Harry loathed Divination.

Hermione's Arithmacy lab was beautiful, marble floors, large Victorian windows bedecked the walls and the ceiling peaked in a high arch. When Hermione walked in, she appeared to be completely alone as she could hear her shoes as they pattered across the floor, echoing around the room. She sat down, and felt very alone, she almost felt like somebody was watching her but when she looked around there was no-one there. She shook herself for being so silly, and immediately took out her Arithmacy things, studying her textbook.

Soon enough, other Arithmacy scholars were swarming into the room and taking their desks enthusiastically.

"Hello, 6th years! What a year this shall be – I hope you've all come along with your brains in gear!" Professor Vector declared as he took his place at the front of the class and immediately started writing complicated formulae on the chalkboard.

Hermione began to copy down the formulae, but found she couldn't focus properly. This shocked Hermione for she could ALWAYS focus, especially in her most prized lesson of all – Arithmacy! Then, she felt a familiar shiver jet down her spine and she knew it. It must be Malfoy. She slid her focus slightly to the far left of her and sure enough, there was Malfoy, idly twisting a pencil through his fingers and staring. Staring at her with a playful smirk playing on his cruel lips, catching her eye every now and again.

The rest of the lesson passed to no avail. Hermione looked at her pitiful notes disparagingly, and stuffed them into her bag with an irritated sigh. It was all Malfoy's fault, why must he stare at her so? He surely knows it's driving her up the wall – that's why! How petty of him.

A fire crackled welcomingly in the Head Common Room, and Hermione enjoyed it while managing to focus whole-heartedly on her Arithmacy homework. Suddenly, the portrait hole flew open and Malfoy strutted in, his customary smirk stretching his pointed features. How Hermione loathed him, he was still the stupid little brad he'd always been, perhaps a couple of inches taller, but no other changes seemed evident. He still had the same smirk, the same pointed nose, the same neatly oiled hair and still the never changing cold grey eyes.

As he stalked into the Common Room, his emotionless eyes rested on Hermione. His smirk grew wider as he surveyed her studious figure scribbling away at some boring formula.

"Are you only able to work your bushy little brains out and hang around with Worthless Weasel and the Most Humongous Prick Potter?" Malfoy asked lazily, flopping down on one of the luxurious green sofas in front of the fire.

"Ron and Harry are twice the men you'll even be, Malfoy. Leave me alone, I'd rather not exchange pleasantries with scum like you." Hermione replied, not once looking up from her work.

"Those two losers? Men? Hah. But I can see how _you _might think so. I mean, look at you, we're only 60 sure you're female, or even _human_ after all." Malfoy retorted rudely, immensely enjoying this little exchange.

Hermione lifted her gaze to meet Malfoy's. "If I'm such a loser, why do you take so much trouble to stare at me all the time?"

The question seemed to quite throw Malfoy initially, he hadn't seen that one coming. But then he narrowed his eyes wickedly and leaned forward, never breaking eye contact with a very bewildered Hermione, and whispered to her maliciously "Because I like to see you squirm."

Malfoy then simply got up and left for his sleeping quarters. Hermione felt another shiver flit down her spine, but this time it didn't spook her so much. It felt sort of good. Something she'd never felt before, a sort of uncomfortable exhilaration.

Coming to her better senses she mentally scolded herself. How could Malfoy provoke such emotion in her? Ugh, he was nothing but a worm. She soon removed him from her thoughts and continued her notes with little distraction.

Through the next week, Hermione and Malfoy barely spoke to one another. Every now and again Hermione would catch him looking over at her, and while the new attentions puzzled her, she still felt that feeling of exhilaration every time their eyes met. She couldn't help but remember the way she'd felt the last time they'd spoken. It was different, although the insults were still there; there was definitely something else in the tone he used with her. It seemed to be less blunt, more…dangerous.

Harry and Ron, however, hadn't noticed any change whatsoever and were getting along with their lives in the ordinary fashion, with or without Hermione. Their attitudes hadn't changed to Malfoy at all.

"How's living with Malfoy? 'Cause if that piece of good for nothing ferret does anything –Said Ron, looking over at Malfoy angrily during a Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

"It's okay Ron, I can handle him. We just ignore each other." Hermione replied vaguely, also looking at Malfoy. She noticed that, when Harry and Ron were around, he stared at her considerably less.

"Well, if he does do anything Hermione, promise you'll tell Ron or me? We'll sort him out." Harry appealed in a brotherly manner.

"Yeah, we'll sort him out alright." Ron mumbled, glaring at Malfoy, slicing a branch off his Krappleberry Bush

"Careful there Weasley!" Professor Sprout shouted across the greenhouse, provoking Malfoy and his Slytherin cronies to snorts of scornful laughter.

Hermione raised a pitying eyebrow at the Slytherins. All thoughts that Malfoy may have changed slightly left her mind. He really was an immature little boy


	3. Trembling

Reviews given were much appreciated! If there are any constructive things you'd like to suggest, please tell me, I want to make this as good as I can.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter –if I did why would I be writing on a FanFic site?

Trembling

September soon morphed into October and a light frost had begun to settle on the castle grounds as 7th year students trudged down to Hagrid's hut for a lesson.

"Alrigh' you lot? I got a grand lesson for yeh all!" Hagrid said proudly, beaming around at the class and winking surreptitiously at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"That'll be the day," Malfoy said spitefully under his breath to Crabbe and they both snorted with coarse laughter. Hermione gave Malfoy a withering look, and wondered why she had ever felt any exhilaration when he looked at her with those stupid, cold, unfeeling grey eyes.

Ignoring the two Slytherins, Hagrid continued, his high spirits slightly dampened. Going into a woodshed near his hut, Hagrid came out with a beautifully odd looking creature in his wake. It had the body of a large, jet black goat and had two dazzling emerald green wings either side of its stout torso.

The class were stunned and looked appreciatively at the stunning animal in front of them. As if it were enjoying the attention, it spread its wings proudly revealing some bright red feathers under its wing.

"This 'ere is Paxton. 'E's a Peryton, one of the last of his kind 'round these parts, beautiful creature ain't 'e? Does anyone 'ere know anything 'bout Perytons?" Hagrid asked while fondly patting Paxton's glossy fur.

To no-one's surprise, Hermione's hand shot up.

"Perytons were originally from Atlantis They would fly in flocks, and attack sailors near the Strait of Gibraltar. They are half Goat half Eagle but they cast the shadow of a man Their wings are so big and beautiful because, like Peacocks, this is kinda how they attract mates." Hermione recited fluently. As was custom, she'd practically eaten her textbook.

"Damn righ' Hermione! 5 points to Gryffindor fer knowin' yeh stuff!" Hagrid beamed. Then he took a large flashlight out of his moleskin jacket. "I'm gonna show yeh the shadow a Peryton casts – does it to scare away predators, see?" Hagrid turned on the flashlight revealing the truly bizarre shadow the Peryton cast.

For Hagrid's standards, this was definitely one of his best lessons, but Hermione couldn't concentrate. She knew he was staring again, she could feel it as if a hot light bulb had been turned on in the back of her mind. A familiar shiver surged down her spine and she shuddered automatically, doing everything in her power to stop herself from meeting Malfoy's stare.

"What's wrong Hermione – you cold?" Ron inquired caringly. Hermione nodded, she didn't want to have to explain herself to him. "Poor Herm, it is kinda cold out here, come here." Ron put his arm around Hermione's shoulders kindly. Harry raised an eyebrow at them slightly, a cheeky little smirk on his face.

An enormous mocking whoop came from behind Ron and Hermione.

"Weasel and the Bush woman have finally hooked up! Give her a kiss Weasel, we all know you're gagging for it, but careful, you might get a mouthful of frizz!" Pansy Parkinson hissed her voice full of derisive laughter. A lot of the Slytherins burst out in laughter at this, but Malfoy's eyes narrowed, his grey eyes turning an inky black colour.

"Quiet thar, yeh at the back! Yeh're disturbin' Paxton!" Hagrid yelled at the Slytherins. Ron quickly removed his arm from Hermione's shoulders, his ears, and the whole of his face for that matter, was burning red.

"Don't worry about it Ron just ignore them." Hermione said, making a rude hand gesture at Pansy. She couldn't help but notice the absence of Malfoy's usual derisive snort of laughter from amongst the Slytherins, and it made her shiver even more. What was WITH him?

"I'm so sorry Herm! I just didn't want you to be cold!" Ron apologised again and again once the lesson had finished.

"Don't worry about it Ron! Ignore those Slytherins; they don't know the first thing about being a friend." Hermione assured him slightly exasperatedly.

"Yeah…friends…" Ron repeated, somewhat wistfully. At this Harry sighed and rolled his eyes at them. Why hadn't they gotten together – there was obviously some chemistry there, he thought to himself.

That evening, after a very heavy dinner in the Great Hall, Hermione traipsed up the pearly staircase towards her and Malfoy's Quarters. On reaching the portrait of the Sirens, there was a note stuck up with Spellotape on the frame.

_Head's Patrol of the potions corridors and dungeons this evening, 10-12pm. Please co-operate, don't go alone, I will not have my students wandering the corridors solitarily._

_ Professor M. McGonagall._

"What's that, Granger? Love letter from Weasel?" Malfoy asked sarcastically, with a touch of bitterness in his tone.

"We have to patrol the corridors together tonight." Hermione said in disgust thrusting the note at Malfoy.

A large grandfather clock with two golden cherubs on the face struck 10, and 10 loud bongs echoed through the corridor.

"We should be going now then." Hermione stated simply after the 10th clang.

"Duh. I could have told you that Granger, honestly…" Malfoy retorted scornfully.

Hermione rolled her eyes and started towards the staircase, Malfoy close in her wake. On their way down to the dungeons, they barely spoke or looked at each other at all. All that could be heard was the pattering of Hermione's light feet and the sharp tap of Malfoy's purposeful stride. Hermione had to jog to keep up with his enormous strides.

"Would you slow down? We're not in a bloody hurry, Malfoy." Hermione called to him breathlessly, clutching a stitch.

"It's called fitness, mudblood, you should try it sometime." Malfoy barked disdainfully.

Regaining her breath immediately, Hermione burned with anger at the mention of her parentage. She ran to catch him up and grabbed his shoulder, forcing him to face her, hazel eyes clashing with grey as they met.

"Don't you EVER. You evil…you cruel ferret! What makes you better than me? What gives you the right to taunt me?" Hermione spouted furiously, a furnace burning in her eyes, her cheeks flushed in rage.

Malfoy chuckled knowingly. "Nothing gives me more pleasure, Granger. Nothing."

"What do you mean Malfoy?" Hermione asked, shuddering obviously at his twisted reply. Malfoy noticed this shudder and smirked in a very satisfied manner.

"I mean, knowing the reason you're angry is because of me, gives me immense pleasure. I make you feel differently to how other men do, don't I Granger? Don't I?" Hermione shook her head her eyebrows narrowing dangerously as she opened her mouth to reply. "Don't say I don't Granger. I see it when you look at me."

"You're the one who stares at me all the time Malfoy!"

"I see you're response Granger. I can see you're exhilarated by it. And most afraid that you might just have a desire for more than just knowledge. Something you, for once, cannot control."

"I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy."

Malfoy closed the space between him and Hermione, a nasty smile on his face. Hermione tried to draw herself up and make herself look less intimidated than she was.

Malfoy began to push her backwards up to the grey stone wall behind her, never once breaking intense eye contact with her. Hermione tried to push him back but his strong arms firmly pinned her in place his eyes never moving from her trembling features.

"You sure about that? Maybe you're not afraid. But I know you feel exhilarated, a rush of excitement courses through you, every time our eyes meet. Can you feel it Granger?" Malfoy growled sinisterly, the smile leaving his face, his eyes burning with more passion that she'd ever seen, and for the first time, she was terrified of him.

"Let go Malfoy, you know nothing about me." Hermione replied trying to sound smooth and in control, but also fully aware of her trembling lips. Her eyes broke contact with Malfoy's; she couldn't stand the fire burning in them. How did he know so much?

"I said LET GO! Why can't you just leave me alone? Why do you incessantly target me with your stupid mind games?" Hermione cried out.

"Like I said, I like to see you squirm Granger." Malfoy stated, smirking satirically. He relinquished his grip and swept down the corridor. "Keep up Granger."

Hermione shook herself and smoothed down her skirt and shirt, still trembling. He was right. As much as she was scared, she was excited by this. And as much as she hated to admit it, a man had never made Hermione feel this way before – and she liked it. Heavens above, it was freedom.


	4. Expressing Concern, Expressing Hatred

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not owned by me, just this little FanFic

Reviews appreciated a lot! Keep reading whether you review or not, but if you really like it or have some tips – LET ME KNOW!

Expressing Concern, Expressing Hatred

The next morning a strong gale battered the castle and torrents of rain poured from the wide-open skies. Dragging herself out of the warm comfort of her bed, Hermione got up and put on her school robes looking extremely dishevelled. She had NOT had a good night's sleep after the events the previous night, and immediately tried to eradicate all thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her mind.

Malfoy, however, spent his morning as he always did; awakening early and doing some morning push ups before laying his regal four-poster and getting dressed. He had slept like a baby, and, as he thought of the night before, a nasty smirk formed on his features.

Once she was dressed, Hermione tentatively poked her head out of her bed chamber, checking the common room for any signs of the sneering blonde. When she'd established the coast was clear, she grabbed her school bag and darted out of the room before practically diving though the portrait.

"Watch it there, we were sleeping!" Shouted the indignant Sirens in a melodic way.

Hermione didn't pause for apologies as she charged down the stairs, determined to avoid Malfoy. How could he know what had been going on in her head over the past few months? Nobody, least Malfoy, should be allowed to have that power of perception. The hate she felt for him consumed her body and made her boil and tremble.

When she got to the Great Hall and saw the smiles and waves from her friends and fellow Gryffindors a warm wave of relief washed over her. All thoughts of Malfoy flew out the window as she took her seat between Ron and Harry as they devoured a breakfast of kippers, French toast, fried eggs, sausages, black pudding and sherbet lemons.

"You alrigh' 'Ermione?" Asked Ron though a mouthful of toast, spattering Hermione with crumbs.

"I'm fine, didn't sleep well last night." Hermione replied putting a convincing smile on her face as she wiped of toast crumbs from her robe sleeve.

"Malfoy's not up to anything? Not giving you a hard time? If he is, tell us Herm, Ok?" Said Harry, before Ron could splatter Hermione with breakfast again.

"It's Hogsmeade weekend on Saturday! Want to come with me and Harry, Herm?" Ron asked after swallowing a large mouthful of sausage and egg.

"Yeah, sounds great…" Hermione replied and was about to ask if they would consider handing out S.P.E.W leaflets in Hogsmeade when her happy, sparkling hazel eyes met with fiery grey ones. Her breath caught in her throat, and she tore her eyes away from his, getting up from the table.

"Where are you going? You only just sat down! Walk with us to Charms, Hermione!" Harry asked with a very confused expression on his face as Hermione began to gather up her things.

"I'm sorry Harry, Ron, I want to get something I left in the Library last night, and I'll see you both in Charms Ok? I'm really sorry – bye!" Hermione grabbed as piece of toast and marched out of the Hall, away from those X-ray grey eyes.

Once she'd got into the corridor outside the Hall, she flopped back against the stone wall, breathing heavily. Nowadays, she couldn't seem to have a conversation with Harry and Ron without Draco interrupting with his ever seeing eyes. How she despised him and what he constantly did to her, incessantly putting thoughts in her head.

"Granger. Hey Granger!" A familiar voice was calling to her. Hermione's eyes snapped open and she immediately turned from the voice and advanced rapidly down the corridor.

"Wait! Slow down, Granger, why'd you leave your two boyfriends behind? Come on, Mudblood, is the big bad Slytherin getting to you?" Malfoy sneered, grabbing Hermione by the shoulder.

"That's IT, Malfoy, you crossed the line." Hermione whirled round to face him, her face burning with electricity, her fists rolled into balls.

Malfoy chuckled, a low, hollow chuckle. "Going to hit me, again Granger? That'll show me, wont it? I'm sure even you don't doubt that that plan would never work." Malfoy sneered disparagingly, pushing Hermione's defensive little fists down to her sides with his large, Quidditch weathered hands.

"Why are you doing this?" Hermione demanded, tears or hatred and anger welling in her eyes slightly, her whole body stiffening at Malfoy's touch.

Malfoy smirked in a condescending manner. "You don't know? You can't work it out? The poor lost little mudblo-" Malfoy didn't finish his sentence as Hermione raised her hand to slap him hard, but Malfoy was too quick for her and caught her hand deftly before it did any damage. A crease formed on his forehead, his grey eyes sparked dangerously and he grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, starting to push her back against a wall, for the second time. And for the second time, Hermione trembled violently in his grip, her eyes darting up and down the corridor, praying that someone would come and save her.

Malfoy put his mouth next to her ear and hissed "No-one's coming to save you. It's just me and you here now. Breakfast doesn't end for another 5 minutes. So tell me Granger, an evil Slytherin has you up against a wall. What do you do? What – do – you – do?" Malfoy sounded out his last words slowly and dangerously. Hermione felt adrenaline pumping though her veins, and a jolt of energy surged down her spine as she glared back into his eyes.

Then, Hermione did something Malfoy wasn't expecting.

Up went her knee to Malfoy's crown jewels.

Down went Malfoy.

"Never. Mess. With. Me. Again. You. Worthless. Ferret." Threatened Hermione, her breathing ragged and quick, her heart beating so loudly she was afraid Malfoy could hear how scared she was. And then she ran, thoughts, confused feelings, and crazy theories whirling around her brain and yet she only seemed to come out with one question. Why?

When she arrived in Charms, she was still shaking all over. Harry and Ron came to sit with her and she distantly acknowledged them. Her thoughts were clouded with Malfoy's face, her ears were plagued with his voice, his strong scent of cinnamon besieged her senses. Never before had Hermione felt excited like this. Whether she hated Malfoy or not was not an issue, he was the only person who had ever made her feel this way.

And unlike before, she wanted to hold onto this feeling more than anything. Just thinking about Malfoy lying on the floor clutching himself in agony made Hermione smirk. Just thinking about Malfoy made Hermione's heart pound.

"Miss Granger, could you tell the class how to perform a Heating Charm?" Professor Flitwick squeaked.

Suddenly Hermione fell back down to earth.

"Wha-? Heating…erm, _Incendio_?" Hermione spluttered, her face flushed, ashamed at herself.

"Correct. Listen more carefully to my lessons in the future, Miss Granger, you were lucky this time." Professor Flitwick advised, and carried on with the lesson.

"What IS going on with you, Hermione? Don't lie to us anymore, there's something wrong we can tell." Harry asked, worry plastered all over his face.

"Yeah, you don't seem yourself recently, Herm. We miss you." Ron appealed to her, his green eyes sparkling concernedly.

"It's nothing, I've just had a couple of rough nights, and can we drop this please? Look, you two, I'll make it up to you this weekend at Hogsmeade, I'll be fine in no time. See you later; I'm off to my room to get some stuff." This, of course, was a lie. Hermione was off to seek out Draco Malfoy.


	5. Interruptions

Disclaimer: I don't own Mr. Potter or any of his little friends.

Sorry I haven't updated for a while – I was on a history trip to Belgium with my school so I haven't had time. Plus, I've had a bit of writers block.

Interruptions

Hermione charged out of the Charms corridor and up to the Head Quarters. After mumbling the password to the Sirens, she clambered through the portrait hole and scanned the common room for any signs of Malfoy. But he wasn't there. He wasn't in his room either, or the bathroom. Then, Hermione saw a little note taped to the gold mirror over the main fire place.

_Granger – Meet me in the Library when you get this_

Intrigued, Hermione immediately left for the library, not even bothering to pack her stuff for next lesson. As she walked through the darkening corridors, intrigue turned into fright – what did he want to see her about? She wasn't exactly forthcoming to him when she gave him one where it hurts.

But thinking time ran out once she had approached the large oak doors of the library. She had never felt this excited entering a room with hundreds of books before which was strange because books were Hermione's life. Up till now.

"Granger," Malfoy's gruff voice came from the Magical Creatures section. Hermione whirled round to see a very tall blonde boy smirking at her, casually leaning against the bookcase. "Come with me."

Hermione followed Malfoy deeper into the library, shadows of the bookcases cast onto Hermione's slightly worried expression. Then, when all was silent and no-one was around, Malfoy turned to Hermione, smirking in a way that he'd never shown before. He looked at her with a mixture of anger, confusion and something else. Something else indescribable, but whatever it was, it was there.

"What did you want to see me about, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her voice wavering somewhat, her tone and breathing ever so slightly uneven.

"Granger, what's going on?" Malfoy demanded, angrily, his eyes gleaming with anger and passion.

"What do you mean, Malfoy?" Hermione asked innocently.

"What _spell _are you using Granger, tell me right now." Malfoy pursued further impatiently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about Malfoy, can I go now?" Hermione replied, very confusedly. Suddenly, her palms were very sweaty and her heart pounded anxiously.

"You know. You MUST know. This isn't just happening, Granger. It's you, and your spells and…"

"Whoa, Malfoy, do you think I've put a spell on you?" Hermione asked, promptly cottoning on to Malfoy's ramblings.

"Of course you've put a spell on me Granger. Why else would this be happening to me?" Malfoy said dejectedly.

"Why else what – what's happening?"

"Hermione! Hey, Hermione!" Ron's little red head poked around the corner suddenly. "Still here? Oh, it's you." Said Ron as he suddenly noticed Malfoy standing with Hermione, and he looked at the blonde boy like he was dirt.

"Yes, it's me Weasel and I was having a discussion with you little mudblood girlfriend here so could you leave us alone you prying piece of trash?" Malfoy lashed out irately.

As if it were an automatic thing, Ron's shaking hand plunged into his robes and he pulled out his wand aiming it at Malfoy's face. "Don't push me Malfoy, don't tempt me to screw up your face, because I will!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and lazily drew his own wand. "Keep back Weasel, Don't try and mess with me, I'm too quick for you. Don't even try it."

"**_Furnunculus!" _ Ron yelled and angry orange sparks flew from his wand tip, but, by annoying co-incidence, ricocheted off a bookcase and right back into his face causing angry boils to pop up everywhere.**

Ron fell backwards and grabbed his face, groaning in immense pain.

"RON! Ron, you're going to the Hospital wing NOW! Come on, take my hand!" Hermione yelled, ignoring Malfoy completely and running to Ron's aid. Malfoy guffawed with unsettling laughter as Hermione struggled to help Ron to his feet.

Once in the hospital wing, Ron was immediately taken into Madame Pomfrey's care with large dosages of a steaming yellow medicine. Although Ron's boils seemed to fade slightly and the itching ceased, he looked even more miserable than before.

"You're looking better, Ron. Why so sad?" Hermione inquired gently, adjusting Ron's sheets.

"Malfoy. How could I let this happen again? He always gets the better of me." Ron replied, hanging his head shamefully.

"It was an accident, Ron, you were angry, you weren't concentrating. Forget it." Hermione assured him, giving him a warm smile. "I was flattered that you came to my rescue that way though."

Ron grinned back. "It's the least I could do, Herm." But then his sad little pout returned "I still can't believe he made a fool out of me in front of you again."

"What do you mean – again?"

"2nd year, the slugs, remember? I was so humiliated and all I wanted to do was to make you think I was brave and not as loser like he's always making out." Ron looked up at Hermione – his expression was so pathetic, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"Oh, Ron! No matter how wrong your attempts to bring Malfoy down for me go, I'll never think you're a loser! You're one of my best friends!" Hermione said, encouragingly putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Hermione, you don't know how much-" Ron began but was interrupted by someone bursting into the Hospital wing.

"RON! What happened? Was it Malfoy? Oh, hey Hermione, you might have told me he was here!" Harry bellowed as he rushed up to Ron's bedside.

"Mr. Potter! You will not disturb Mr. Weasley, he's trying to heal! He'll only have ONE visitor at a time please!" Madame Pomfrey roared making Harry flinch and take a couple of steps back.

"It's ok, Madame Pomfrey, I'll leave so Harry can see Ron." Hermione said, looking back at Ron who seemed thoroughly irritated at being disturbed when he was trying to tell her something. "Ron, we'll talk later when you get out of here, Ok? Take care! Bye boys. Calm down Harry!"

Hermione left the Hospital wing, burning with anger at Malfoy. Her fists curled into familiarly angry positions at her sides, her face was flushed and her eyes burned harshly.

"How's dear Weasel? Getting his nose re-attached? Shame they cant do the same for his brain, eh, Granger?" A cool sneering voice came from behind Hermione. Hermione knew exactly who it was.

"Don't you ever say that about Ron! He only did that to help me out – it was bravery – and you made fun of him! Not that I expected anything else out of someone like you. You haven't one brave bone in your body – _that's_ why you're in Slytherin isn't it? Cowardice." Hermione lashed out, her whole body shaking with fury.

"Cowardice? You're joking, I'm not cowardly. _I _ can hold a wand straight and hex properly, unlike your boyfriend, Weasel." Draco sneered, wrinkling up his nose, smirk fading from his features.

"Yes, cowardice, Malfoy. Pointing a wand doesn't make you a hero! Don't you understand? You've probably never helped anyone else out in your life!" Hermione snapped, cutting Draco deeper than she realised.

"You don't know anything about me Granger so don't pretend like you do, Okay?" Draco suddenly became very adamant and for the first time, Hermione realised he was only human when she heard the passion in his voice.

As Draco turned to leave her presence something suddenly came over her.

"Malfoy! Malfoy, wait, what was it you wanted to ask me earlier? About the spells or something?" Hermione asked him, and he turned to face her, an earnest expression on his pale features.

"I don't want to talk anymore, Granger. Go back to your boyfriends." Malfoy said coldly, towering over Hermione intimidating, she trembled slightly under his glare, but turned on her heel deciding not to make a reply.

That evening, Malfoy didn't return to the Head Quarters while Hermione was up. She wanted so badly to find out what was going through his head but as the large grandfather clock on the corner of the common room struck 2, Hermione gave up waiting and went to bed.

Ten minutes later, Draco entered the common room looking considerably ruffled. As he ran his hand through his messed up hair he swore quietly to himself. In his head he couldn't quite make out why he'd taken such an interest in Granger this year, why he couldn't stop staring. All he knew was that it wasn't just sadistic. In his head he couldn't make it out at all. In his heart, something was telling him a different story. But Malfoys don't listen to their hearts.


	6. Trouble in Paradise

Thanks for suggestions & reviews – will make chapters longer. Actually, had thought they were kinda short meself. I reckon as the story progresses they will start to get longer. Keep reading please!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter may live in Surrey nearby, but he doesn't belong to me.

Trouble in Paradise

October was drawing to a close, which meant two things. Firstly, the weather was becoming stormier by the day. Harsh winds ravished the Hogwarts grounds and whipped the Lake violently creating a romantic, yet very wet scene. Secondly, the school was in very good spirits. Halloween was approaching and on Halloween weekend the 3rd years and above were to enjoy a day of Hogsmeade.

"Coming to Hogsmeade with me, Drakie?" Pansy cooed irritatingly at breakfast, trying to looks as enticing as she possibly could.

Draco made an indistinct grunting noise, not even acknowledging her presence. He refused to look at her stupid squashed pug face and unattractive babyish pout (that she thought he found adorable).

Pansy took this as a yes and squealed in delight, attempting to slip her hand onto Draco's thigh, who then promptly shifted his leg. He had been very irritated and confused ever since his last meeting with Hermione, and was putting all his effort into not looking at her.

Hermione, however, was sitting happily with Harry and Ron (who had just come out of the Hospital wing) on the other side of the Hall. She had been a lot happier ever since she'd had it out with Malfoy. She had decided not to feel anything other than disdain for him and felt like a weight was lifted from her shoulders. Although something was nagging at the back of her mind, Ron and Harry's boisterous voices talking about Hogsmeade blocked it out.

"Haven't been there for ages – I'm gonna spend a fortune at Zonko's and Honeydukes!" Ron exclaimed eagerly, gesticulating violently with his hands an accidentally spilling his pumpkin juice all over Parvati.

"Yeah, it'll be great. Are you coming with us Herm?" Harry asked, silently persuading her with his charming green eyes.

"I don't know if I'm going to go…I have so much to catch up on and the library will be empty…" Hermione replied truthfully.

"Aww, come on, Herm, you're always working! Me and Harry deserve to have you around more than your Homework! I'll consider us even after the Malfoy incident if you come." Ron said, grinning thinking that he'd been very self-sacrificial in offering her this.

"'Malfoy Situation'? He and I were just talking when you went and barged in, wands blazing! Why should I have to repay you just because you lost your temper?" Hermione snapped back automatically.

"So you're sticking up for that slimy ferret? After everything? What are you, friends with Slytherin boy? Jeez Hermione, me and Harry thought you were sipping away from us, but we didn't think you'd choose _him_ over us!" Ron barked, his ears beginning to go a violent shade of scarlet.

"No, I'm not choosing him over you and Harry! Malfoy is not my friend – just because we were chatting doesn't mean we're friends! I can talk to whoever I want, you don't own me, Ronald, and I can look after myself without you hexing yourself for me!" Hermione yelled back, perhaps slightly louder than she had wanted, and with that she picked up her things and stormed out.

On seeing this display, the Slytherin table erupted with cheers and jeering whoops as Hermione left the table. Malfoy did not join them, however he felt quite pleased for reasons he wasn't quite sure of.

Hermione found her way up to the library and pulled a couple of books off the shelves, trying desperately to fight back the tears. Fighting with Ron was bad enough, but she hated that it was because of Malfoy. Suddenly, a little jet black head came speeding into the library.

"Herm!" Harry shouted as he galloped in and was immediately hushed by Madame Prince who looked even more like a vulture than ever. "Herm, come to Hogsmeade with us, please. Ron didn't think when he was talking to you earlier, he was out of line, but you shouldn't have snapped at him like that." Harry appealed in a hushed tone.

"I know I shouldn't have, it just came out. Yes, of course I'll come with you, so long as Ron promises to be civil." Hermione said haughtily, but was secretly very gratified to have a friend like Harry.

Harry grinned, his charming smile illuminating his features, "Of course he'll be civil. Herm, you know he's just looking out for you. We both are. We all know what Malfoy is like, and we want to make sure you're fine." Harry said, trying not to sound patronising.

"Yeah, I know. Thank you, Harry, for your concern, but I'm sure I can handle Malfoy perfectly well. Let's not talk about him anymore. Come on, we should be getting ready for Hogsmeade." Said Hermione, a thankful smile taking the place of the frown, her tearful eyes converting into sparkling happy ones.

So, that afternoon, Harry, Ron and Hermione all left for Hogsmeade with the rest of the joyful upper school. As they sat it their Thestral drawn carriage, Harry sat between Hermione and Ron as they were not speaking to each other. Once in Hogsmeade, Harry made forced conversation.

The entire carraige ridewent this way. Harry would make a comment and Ron or Hermione would answer monotonously. Every now and again, Hermione would throw a snide comment his way and Ron's ears would glow bright red, but surprisingly chose not to retort.

Once out of the carriage, the three stepped through Hogsmeade gates into the beautiful provincial town which had been magnificently decorated for Halloween. Pumpkins with cheeky enchanting expressions were lit enticingly in each shop. Merchants dressed up as vampires, goblins, giants and a whole manner of other creatures lined the streets, selling odd sweets and sinister looking merchandise. Everything was covered in, what they hoped was fake, blood and cobwebs. Hogsmeade certainly got into the Halloween spirit!

"Where shall we go first…Honeydukes? They are doing an offer on Blood Pops for Halloween..." Harry asked.

"Yeah, _I'd _like to, but I don't know if Ronald would let me. God forbid, someone might want to talk to me there!" Hermione replied, her voice dripping with icy sarcasm.

"How could I have known that Malfoy wasn't harming you, and that you were just, as usual, _fraternising _with the enemy?" Ron suddenly exploded after holding back a lot of biting comments, his face slowly filling with an intense shade of violet.

"I wasn't fraternising! Malfoy just wanted to discuss something with me – we're not getting married! Who are you to say who I can and can't talk to?" Hermione retorted turning to face Ron, her eyes gleaming heatedly.

"That's a no, then." Harry sighed inwardly.

The three ended up in the Three Broomsticks for Butterbeers, and they sat in silence as Harry was sick of making conversation when Ron and Hermione were so determined to use it as an excuse to snap at each other.

"Hows about you just go off with Snape and seal the deal, eh, Hermione? You've been with Krum and Malfoy; why not take one step further?" Ron snapped suddenly once he had finished his beer.

"Krum and I were just friends, you KNOW I despise Snape and I don't even LIKE Malfoy!" Hermione spat back, furious that he could even suggest it, although a part fo her knew that this was not entirely true.

"Only a matter of time, Hermione. You seem to like exasperating Harry and I with your taste in men. Perhaps if you did get jiggy with Snape our marks would go up." Ron retorted, but realised he'd gone too far a little too late as a slender, shaking hand came crashing down on his cheek.

"How DARE you even suggest-" Hermione shouted as she got up from her bar stool, hand still shaking, but then a certain young man came by.

"Trouble in paradise, Weasley? Fallen out with your girlfriend? I could have sworn I heard my name come up in this little tiff." Malfoy sneered smoothly, looking extremely pleased with himself as he surveyed Ron's cheek with Hermione's hand mark on it.

"You! You go now, leave my friend alone!" Ron roared, getting to his feet, shaking with fury.

"Hah, friends? Do friends slap each other? Because, in that case, Granger and I are very close indeed." Malfoy replied,grinning at Hermione slightly, his grey eyes twinkling with mischief, making Hermione even more furious with him, but at the same time, making her want togrin backat him too.

All of a sudden, Ron grabbed Harry's Butterbeer and threw it right into Malfoy's smug face, soaking him from head to toe.

"Leave us alone, or I will KILL you myself, you Pureblood trash!" Ron threatened ardently, slamming the glass back down onto the table.

Wiping Butterbeer from his face, it didn't take long for Draco to process what Weasley had just done to him, so responded in the only way he knew how.

Up went Malfoy's wrathful fist.

Down it went onto Ron's nose

Down went Ron, clutching his nose in agony.

Up rose Harry from his stool, all set to avenge his wounded friend.

"Oi! Oi, what's going on here, boys?" Madame Rosemerta yelled from the bar before Harry could swing a punch."If you wanna fight, take it outside, lads, leave my pub!"

"I'm not leaving Hermione with _him_." Ron yelled as he got to his feet, clutching his nose.

"She wouldn't want to stay with you anyway, Weasley."

"You know what, I'll make it really easy for you both, and _I'll_ leave." Hermione said, coldly, and with that, stalked out of the Three Broomsticks seething with anger.

Once back at the school, Hermione ran up to her Quarters, into her bedroom and sobbed into her pillow. Why was Ron being so DIFFICULT? Why was she allowing Malfoy come in between her and her friends? Why were her worst enemy and her best friend fighting over her? And when they were having a fight in the pub, why oh why did she desperately want to abandon Ron and run to her worst enemy's aid? Tears poured down her flushed cheeks, all these tangled questions buzzed in her brain, and although she vaguely knew the answers, she was nowhere near ready to accept them.

Just then, there was a sharp knock at her door. Hermione ignored it, but because the knocking didn't cease, she dragged herself up from her bed and stalked grumpily up to the door.

"Yeah, yeah, I can hear you." She grumbled, wiping the tears from her sorrowful hazel eyes, reaching for the silver doorknob. "Who is it?"

"Draco Malfoy."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.


	7. A Spark

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A Spark

Hermione froze, her hand still clasping the doorknob, not knowing how to respond.

"Granger? Can I speak with you, please?" Malfoy demanded irritation evident in his tone.

"Go away; I'm not in the mood." Hermione replied gruffly, removing her, now quivering, hand from the doorknob.

"Whether you let me in or not, I am going to speak to you, Granger, so make it easy on yourself and let me in!" Malfoy bellowed, trying to turn the doorknob himself, but to no avail. Hermione didn't reply, she simply flopped back against the wall and sank down onto the floor, placing her head in her hands.

"Fine, if that's the way you're going to be, I'll say what I have to say from out here." Malfoy announced angrily. "Granger, living with you is one thing, and I can just about manage it, but getting caught up with your disturbed boyfriends is a whole different cauldron of doxies."

Hermione, not taking the trouble to argue, simply said "OK," very hoarsely.

"Granger? Is that you? You sound very…what are you doing in there?" Malfoy probed, banging a fist on the door.

Hermione ruefully got to her feet and opened the door to a very curious looking Malfoy.

"Are you done?" She asked, gutturally, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Malfoy scanned her face with surprised eyes, taking in her tear-stained cheeks, red swollen eyes and severely tousled hair.

"What's wrong with _you_, Granger? You're not the one who was attacked by two maniacs in the Three Broomsticks! You look awful!" Malfoy exclaimed incredulously. Hermione narrowed her eyes and reached for the doorknob to slam the door in Malfoy's face.

Malfoy was too fast for her though, and he caught the door with his hand. "Granger, you do realise that Weasel boy if practically in love with you, don't you?" Malfoy sneered, a cruel smile on his face.

"Leave Ron alone. You don't know what you're talking about." Hermione answered, narrowing her red eyes even further, although she knew he was right.

"I certainly do, I've seen it going on for years, but I can never seem to work out where you stand in all of this." Malfoy said, his smirk widening, his grey eyes focused on Hermione, who was avoiding his eyes.

"Ron's my friend, that's where I stand."

"So you don't…"

"No I don't."

"Poor old Weasel. Still, plenty more fish in the sea, or should I say, Weasels in the woods, eh, Granger?" Malfoy smirked, winking mischievously.

Hermione wanted to hit him, she really truly did, and a large part of her brain was telling her to slam the door in his silly smirking face. But a small part of her, mainly the muscles in her face, wanted to laugh. And for a split second she caught his cheeky eye, and she could feel a little spark fly between them.

"Goodnight Malfoy." Hermione said finally, tearing her eyes away from Malfoy's, who, this time, didn't stop her from shutting the door. Once alone in her room, Hermione smirked. The first proper smirk she'd ever worn on her innocent little face. Her whole body felt like it was full of fizzing electricity, shivers coursed through her entire body, and she loved every second of it.

Draco didn't leave his spot outside Hermione's door for a little while. He'd felt the spark too, the little flit of electricity that would be undetectable to an outsider, but was definitely there. His smirk widened at first, and he was about to bang on the door again, but then he remembered something.

"_Purebloods like us don't mix with mudbloods, Draco. You have royal blood, don't ever let a mudblood in and disgrace me; they aren't worth the dirt on your shoes."_

Draco's father would tell him that daily when he was at home. He inwardly scolded himself for mixing with Granger, what would his father say if he knew? Granger was a mudblood and had no right to even share the same building with him. Despite the fact that he knew that he was wrong, and fighting every urge to turn back to Hermione's room, Draco turned abruptly away from the bedroom door in front of him, hardening his heart and extinguishing the spark from his mind.

Next morning, the excitement from last night had faded away, and Hermione was ashamed of herself. She got out of bed quietly, focusing on anything but Malfoy's smirking face that swam around in her mind, and carried out her morning routine, vacating the common room speedily so as not to bump into Malfoy.

Malfoy, however, was not in the Quarters when Hermione had so hastily left. He hadn't been able to sleep the night before, guilt plaguing his mind, fully conscious that something had begun between himself and Granger – the mudblood. So at about 2:00am, he had gotten out of his regal four-poster bed and slipped down to the Slytherin common room, set to eliminate guilt and prove his true Slytherinlyness.

The next morning, he woke up in a foreign bed, next to the only girl willing to 'help out.' Poor, oblivious, used, Pansy Parkinson slept like a baby next to Draco that night, feeling like this proved that he wanted her just as much as she did him.

But Draco couldn't think of anything other than Hermione's tear stained face, fighting back a smile.

All through the day, Hermione avoided Ron, Draco tried to shake Pansy off and both avoided one another until Potions, the last lesson of the day.

"Sit." Snape spat once everyone had assembled in his dungeon. Harry had sat between Ron and Hermione, who had a dense air of awkwardness between them both.

Snape surveyed the class with his hard cold eyes, imagining each one of them on an island somewhere…wrapped in heavy chains.

"Today we will be exploring the effects of the Memory Draught. Longbottom, explain to me what the Memory Draught does." Snape demanded, locking his cold stare onto poor Neville.

"I d-don't know, P-Professor, I-" Neville replied frantically looking around for Hermione to prompt him.

"For goodness's sake Longbottom, Miss Granger will not help you, although I know how much she is itching to show off. Ten points from Gryffindor for your lack of knowledge and Miss Granger's impertinence.

"That's NOT fair, Professor!" Hermione burst angrily, rising from her seat, knowing that she was playing into Snape's hands by retaliating.

"Oh really…well if you spent less time trying to show us all up and more time LISTENING to your teachers, you may not feel that way. Ten more points from Gryffindor for your insolence." Snape retorted, gleeful that he had found another reason to deduct point s from Gryffindor. Hermione sank back into her chair, while receiving sympathetic glances from the Gryffindors and sneering ones from the Slytherins. She gazed over at Malfoy quickly, but to her surprise, he was just staring into space, his grey eyes entirely unfocused.

"Seeing as none of you have the brain capacity to pick up a textbook before you came to this lesson, I will explain the potion to you. This potion, if brewed correctly, will give the drinker unlimited access to anyone in this room's memories. It gives limited access to anyone's life depending on how much you drink." Snape informed smoothly, glaring round at his students. "I will be putting you into pairs for this assignment, and you will try your potion on each other. If you fail, you will enjoy a detention with me, cleaning the scum out of the specimen jars. Understand?"

The class all nodded; slightly afraid of whom they would be partnered with. Snape smirked and took a list of the pairs from his desk drawer. Snape announced each pair with great satisfaction. He had put Ron with Pansy, Harry with Millicent and Hermione with…Malfoy. His work here was done.

The whole class groaned with vexation at the pairings. Harry walked warily over to Millicent Bulstrode's table and Ron stomped over to Pansy. Hermione just sat, staring ahead of her, not sure of how to react to her pairing.

"Move over, Granger, if you want to do this potion with me, you need to move out of my way." Malfoy sneered, placing himself on the bench next to Hermione, taking up most of the space.

"I didn't _want _to do this potion with you, Malfoy. Look, let's just get this done quickly so we can spend as little time as possible together." Said Hermione, her heartbeat quickening when she realised how close she was sitting to Malfoy.

Malfoy moved himself up, close next to Hermione, making out he was trying to hog the bench. He knew that if he did this, Hermione would fight back, and he liked feeling her angry little body pushing up against him, pushing him away. He then surveyed the board as Snape wrote the ingredients.

"You can chop the frog's testicles, Granger, you'll enjoy that, I think I'll do the daisy roots." Said Malfoy rudely, pushing a tray of green unattractive parts towards Hermione.

"Oh, no, if I have to do these, you've got to do the eyeballs." Hermione retorted, wrinkling up her nose at the sight of the slimy bits of anatomy in front of her.

"Me? I don't think so Granger. You see, I'm a pureblood and-" Malfoy began, smirking evilly.

"Oh don't give me that crap. Look, if you're not _man_ enough to do that, then I will. Jeez, Malfoy, you're a pathetic excuse for a guy." Said Hermione manipulatively, smirking at Malfoy.

Malfoy was extremely taken aback at this smirk, and frankly, a little turned on too (AN: LOL). He knew exactly what Granger was doing, damn reverse psychology, but he finally decided that he didn't want to look like a wimp, so dutifully took the tray of eyeballs.

Hermione immediately felt like she had triumphed, and seeing Malfoy chopping the eyeballs gave her a warm feeling inside. Despite the fact that she had to chop up thirty or so small slimy testicles, she felt like she had achieved something.

Once they had finished their potion, it was perfect. It was a nice turquoise colour and had a gentle grey vapour rising from it, clouding the surface.

"Measure out 6ml to drink. I will allocate whom, from the pairs, will have their memories explored. Once the 'explorer' has drunk the potion, he or she is to place their hands on their partner's head to enter their memories." Snape announced, looking like a very bloodthirsty bat.

"Hard luck, Granger." Malfoy said, smirking happily, as he had been allocated as the one to explore her thoughts.

"Oh, just do it and get it over with." Hermione grumbled, not feeling at all safe having her thoughts exposed to Malfoy.

Malfoy gulped down the potion, wincing slightly at the sour taste (AN: that'll be the testicles) and placed his hands on Hermione's head, realising for the first time how small she was in comparison to him. He could fit her head easily in his large, strong hands.

Hermione was terrified at this point, although the warmth from Malfoy's hands was comforting, the mischievous look on his face, however, was not.

Suddenly, Malfoy's mind was full of Hermione's memories. He saw a young girl sitting sadly in a small library at a muggle school alone, a tear falling down her pale, young face. He then saw the same girl on the Hogwarts express with Harry and Ron. He felt her happiness and her warmth when she was with them, something her never felt towards anyone himself. He could see everything as she saw it, her friends, her family, and her teachers and then finally…him.

He finally accessed her thoughts of him, and he saw her slap him when they were in 3rd year. He felt her anger, how hot it was, how passionately she hated him. He was surprised that he could provoke that kind of emotion in anyone, and he realised that his taunts had gone right to her heart. Then suddenly, a picture of him formed in Hermione's mind, and he felt the jolt of electricity down his own spine that she felt every time they caught each other's eye.

And then it stopped. He opened his eyes blearily, and took his hands off Hermione's head, not knowing what to do with himself. His thoughts suddenly went to Pansy, and he looked at Hermione, feeling for the first time in his life that he had done something very wrong.

"What's wrong, Malfoy? What did you see? Tell me what you saw!" Hermione demanded, frantically wondering whether he had seen anything he shouldn't have.

"Nothing…nothing important. I'm going to go now, later Granger." And with that Malfoy swung his bag onto his back and left the dungeon. Snape didn't bother to stop his favourite student from leaving, but found no problem with giving all who remained a painful essay on Memory Draughts and their effects and method of brewing.

Malfoy arrived back in his Quarters angry with himself for all these sudden feelings. He was furious that Granger could make him feel guilty for sleeping with Pansy – why would she care who he spent his time with anyway? She means nothing; her opinion of him means nothing at all. That jolt of electricity meant nothing; it was probably just the potion messing with his head. And the spark, that meant absolutely nothing. Didn't it?


	8. Painful Exchanges

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Painful Exchanges

That evening at dinner, Hermione scoured the Slytherin table with her eyes for any sign of Malfoy, but his usual seat between Crabbe and Pansy was vacant. She knew it was because of her, he was avoiding her, why else would he have left so abruptly? He must have seen something in her mind…

"Ask the fraternizer to pass the potatoes, Harry." Ron requested loud enough for Hermione to hear.

"Hermione, Ron wants-" Harry began, but Hermione lost all patience, she hated being interrupted in a train of thought.

"Yes I know what Ron wants, I can hear." Hermione snapped picking up the platter of steaming potatoes and dumping them in front of Ron. "Grow up, Ron."

"Grow up? Me? I'm not the one betraying my friends!" Ron bit back sourly.

"Oh? And just how am I betraying you and Harry?" Hermione asked her voice at a soft and dangerous tone.

"You and Malfoy looked pretty cosy in Potions." Ron replied quickly, looking Hermione straight in the eye, an unhappy satisfaction plastered over his face.

"So you're jealous of him are you?" Hermione replied without thinking. Ron went scarlet, a large vein pulsing in his temple.

"Jealous? You think _I'm _jealous of that piece of pureblood crap? I'm just sick of your-" Ron ranted but was cut short by Harry.

"That's enough, that's IT I can't take your bickering any longer!" Harry exploded, standing up and leaving the table.

"Harry, mate, wait!" Ron called after his friend, chasing after him out of the Hall.

"Ron, we all know you like Hermione! And even more people know how much she detests Malfoy! So would you stop bickering with her about him?" Harry chastised as soon as they were out of the earshot of everyone – or so they thought.

Ron opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. He was horrified at this news; he'd always thought he'd been pretty subtle in hiding his ardour for Hermione.

"I…I…Harry, you know that's not true, Hermione's just a friend!" Ron stuttered going even redder.

"Don't lie to me, I know. Look, Ron, if I think you should apologise to her right now. I know she was out of line …but so were you. You don't want to loose her as a friend, do you?" Harry advised austerely, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I don't…I'm not…you're right, Harry. I do like her." Ron gave up, hanging his head, the colour draining from his face.

"That's great, mate! So, do something about it, and stop squabbling with her, because it's driving me insane!" Harry implored. "I'm going back to the common room, coming?"

"Nah mate, I'm going to wait outside the Head Quarters for Hermione. I'll be up soon, though." Ron replied, a plan forming in his mind. He was resolved to tell Hermione how he felt. He needed to, he'd liked her for too long, and Harry had finally made him realise how much she needed to know. So, ran up to the Head Quarters, his mind frantically trying to plan what he was going to say to her as he charged up multiple staircases.

Meanwhile, nearby, Draco had heard the entire exchange between Ron and Harry from an empty classroom he'd gone into to think things over, and was alarmed by it. He'd known for quite some time that Ron had feelings for Hermione – but never thought he would do anything about it. His heart began to race, as dinner began to come to a close, knowing that if Ron spoke to Hermione, he would tell her everything. What if they got together? Draco shuddered at the thought, but didn't really know why he was so bothered with the golden trio's affairs. Well, with Hermione's affairs.

Malfoy was sick of thinking thing through, however. His feelings seemed to difficult to process and he therefore impulsively put together his own plan. He needed to stop Hermione from meeting with Ron, and right away!

So Draco had slipped out of his hiding place without being seen, and ran up the same staircase Ron had in the direction of the Quarters Stalking down a particularly dark corridor, he hid behind a statue of Harriet the Hairy. He knew Hermione would pass this statue because he saw her pass it everyday after dinner, as he would usually follow her with his eyes wherever she went. He just couldn't seem to help himself recently.

Suddenly, he heard the clicking of shoes, walking up the corridor briskly. He recognised the swift clicking heels and delicate the swish of her robes. He took a deep breath and peered down the corridor. Sure enough a small, wavy haired silhouette was approaching him speedily.

The closer she came to his hiding place, the faster Draco's heart beat against his ribcage. Once she was but a few metres away, Draco positioned himself conveniently took out his wand, pointing it to Hermione's legs.

"_Fallacious," _Draco muttered sending a dull beam towards Hermione.

The spell caused Hermione's foot to get caught in the flagstone, sending her flying forwards. Then, being the agile Quidditch player he was, out swooped Draco to catch her before she hit the ground.

Once Hermione was in his capable arms, it took a couple of seconds for the events to register with her. She opened her hazy eyes and took in the silvery hair and grey eyes looking down at her. For a little while she smiled, and wondered vaguely if his hair was as soft as it looked to herself. Then suddenly, her focus became sharper, and she realised whose arms she was in, and forced herself to think of how greasy his hair really must be.

"Granger, you need a haircut, and then you might be able to see where you're going." Malfoy sneered, pulling a very flushed Hermione to her feet.

"Yeah, well, you need to wash your hair. Goodnight Malfoy." Hermione said abruptly, ignoring his comment and turning to walk from to the Quarters.

But Malfoy was too quick for her and blocked her path before she could leave. He had to stop her from getting to Weasley at all costs.

"What, going already? No thank you? You know, I could have just left you to fall on your arse, Granger." Said Draco, rounding on Hermione and drawing himself up to his full height threateningly.

"So why didn't you?" Asked Hermione, raising her eyebrow slightly, wondering for the first time why Draco was acting as he was.

"Because I'm human, Granger. I see someone fall, I go to catch them. I'm not as evil as you like to imagine me in your silly little head." Malfoy vilified, smoothing his slick hair which had been slightly ruffled when he had gone to catch Hermione.

"And where do you think my 'silly little mind' might have gotten that idea, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, her eyes flashing dangerously, ignoring Malfoy's towering profile.

"Who knows? You do, after all, hang around with Pot goes the Weasel. No wonder you're such a moron." Draco retorted resentfully, feeling slightly hurt that she would think him that evil.

"At least I have friends." Hermione muttered just about loud enough for Malfoy to hear.

"What was that, Granger?"

"You heard me."

"I have many friends, not just two morons."

"_All_ your friends are morons. And they are only your friends because your daddy will get them if they are mean to his poor widdle baby Dwaco." Hermione jeered, feeling a rush of malicious excitement as she sneered at Draco as he had her for many years.

Draco was surprised at this reply. Hermione had never once jeered at him like this, and though he resented it, he was really enjoying her wicked streak and little smirk.

"Granger, you don't know my father. And for your information, not only am I the most popular Slytherin, I have many girls who would kill to be in your position right now." Draco said proudly, puffing out his chest.

"Like who? No girls like you, save for Pansy Parkinson who's a desperate little pug anyway." Hermione scoffed, placing her hand on her hips, smirking up at Draco even more.

"You just can't accept the fact that you'll never have anyone interested in you." Draco retorted, knowing immediately from Hermione's change in expression that he had hit a delicate spot.

"Screw you, Malfoy." Hermione muttered, breaking eye contact with him.

"I'm right, aren't I Granger?" Malfoy sneered, moving in closer to her, making sure she couldn't get away. "You hang around with Potter and Weasley everyday, and have they ever once shown romantic interest in you? No, they haven't, have they Granger? No that I can say I blame them really."

Malfoy had taken a step too far, and by the look on her face, he could tell he had. Her eyes had filled up with silvery tears, and one had slipped down his cheek. Then she looked up at him with angry, sorrowful eyes and said "No-one could ever love you, Malfoy." Said Hermione, her voice dangerous and very serious indeed, and with that she pushed past him, breaking into a run, she was desperate to get away from him.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes, staring down the dark corridor in front of him, just knowing that she was probably right. He had made an innocent girl cry, and for what reason? Simply to stop her from seeing Weasley. Why did he care so much, anyway? Draco just couldn't find a reason as he thought of the small, wild haired, crying girl. He point-blank refused to accept any of the obvious reasons nagging at the back of his proud mind.

Hermione stormed up to the Quarters, her eyes now streaming with silent tears. Malfoy must be right; Ron and Harry had never shown much interest in her in that way so therefore she couldn't be attractive at all. Who could love a boring bookworm, like Malfoy was always implying?

But once she got to the Quarters, a gangly red-head was standing anxiously outside about to prove her wrong.

"Ron?" Hermione called throatily, trying to hide the fact that she had been crying, when she saw him.

"Hermione I have something very important to tell you."


	9. Avoidance

Sorry haven't updated for AGES – have had writers block and little time to get over it. Thanks for reviews people, keep telling me stuff you liked/disliked and most importantly keep reading!

Avoidance

"Ron, I'm not in the mood for another argument with you." Said Hermione exasperatedly, edging towards the portrait.

"No, I don't want to argue with you it's just that…well I was taking to Harry and he thinks…I mean he knows…and he said that I should, and I think I should…and I think it's about time Hermione, I really do." Ron stumbled clumsily over his words, going redder and redder.

Hermione surveyed his blushing countenance with puzzlement "Ron, what -"

But before she could finish, Ron blurted out "Hermione I really like you will you go out with me?"

There was a silence as this new information took a while to filter through Hermione's brain. Ron had just asked her out. Ron wanted her to be his girlfriend. _Ron had just asked her out!_

Ron looked at her blank expression despairingly "I understand if you don't want to…"

Hermione knew she had to refuse him. She had never liked Ron all that much in a romantic way and so it would be unfair to say 'yes' to his proposal and lead him on. So Hermione opened her mouth to say this, but suddenly a vision of Draco's smirking face popped into her mind and her feelings did a 180.

"Yes, Ron, I'd love to go out with you." Hermione replied, wearing a forced smile. She didn't know why she did it, but she did.

Ron was overjoyed. "Oh Herm! You've just made me the happiest guy! I'm so glad you feel the same and-"

"Ron, I'm exhausted, I need some sleep, but I'll see you tomorrow okay?" Hermione interrupted Ron. Ron looked slightly hurt so she gave him a peck on the cheek and climbed through the portrait hole.

As the portrait swung closed, Ron touched the spot on his face where Hermione had just kissed him, grinning elatedly to himself.

"So, finally asked Granger out then, Weasel? Finally found your balls?" Malfoy sneered, stepping out from the shadows from where he had heard Hermione and Ron's conversation.

"What's it to you if I have, Malfoy?" Ron replied, coolly, smile fading from his face.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Although why she accepted is beyond me. It's obvious she likes someone else. Hard luck." Said Malfoy softly, smirking at Ron's crestfallen face.

"Oh? And how would you know? She accepted ME, so she must like me." Said Ron, rage starting to bubble to the surface, but instead of staying to fight it out with Malfoy, he began towards the mouth of the corridor.

Malfoy blocked his path, menacingly. "Not so fast, Weasel boy. I just want you to remember this: Granger will never completely be yours. So I'd leave it if I were you."

Ron stepped back from Malfoy, curiosity and rage burning his features. "Who is it? Tell me." He demanded, grabbing a fistful of Malfoy's robes.

Malfoy coolly peeled Ron's fingers from his robes and replied "Someone you could never measure up to, Weasel. Don't touch me, please; my robes have just been washed."

And with that, Malfoy relinquished his cold stare from the 'sorry excuse for a pureblood' in front of him and swept up the portrait hole.

"Stay away from her, Malfoy, or I swear, your life won't be worth living." Said Ron frantically, his back to Malfoy. Malfoy simply smirked to himself and launched through the hole.

That night, a very worried Ron tossed and turned in his bed. His mind incessantly whispered things to him – was Malfoy trying to frighten him, or was there really someone? There was an answer to this question in the back of Ron's mind, but he ignored it. After all, how could someone like Hermione agree to date someone she didn't feel anything for?

That night, a very upset Hermione lay staring at the ceiling listening to the large grandfather clock in her bedroom tick loudly. Whenever she thought of Malfoy and what he had said to her, tears welled up in her eyes, trickling down her face onto the pillow. Why did she care that much anyway? Malfoy had been insulting her for years, why did he finally manage to hit a nerve? She was even unable to think clearly about Ron, and what she was going to do about him, because a blurry image of Malfoy's smirking face had begun to occupy all of Hermione's thoughts.

That night, a restless Malfoy paced his room disconcertedly. Why had he been so adamant to worry Weasley about Hermione's feelings? It's not like he would usually care who she went out with – why should he? _I just didn't think Granger liked him that way _he thought to himself. Why did he care so much? Malfoy knew exactly why, but his mind couldn't quite cope with the answer yet.

Winter had swept by quickly, Christmas was past, and they were approaching spring at a fast pace. Although there was no snow to be seen, a thick layer of frost had settled over the grounds, icing the leaves and the grass. Monday morning brought enormous tureens of soup from breakfast, piles of steaming pancakes covered in syrup and thousands of platters of warm, crusty toast.

Ron, desperate to show the world he was with Hermione and ward off competition, saved her a seat between him and Harry at breakfast.

"So, you're 'with' her now then?" Harry asked, ladling liberal amounts of chicken soup into his bowl.

"Yeah, that's right." Said, Ron, who was restlessly drumming his fingers on the table, staring at the Great Hall doors, waiting for Hermione.

"And you're worried, why?"

"Malfoy."

"Malfoy? What's he got to do with anything?"

Ron didn't get to answer, because just then Hermione stumbled into the Hall, trying to smooth her bushy hair into some kind of order with a small comb. Ron sprang to his feet and waved frantically to her, his arm catching Harry's glasses as it launched into the air sending them flying, but he didn't seem to notice.

"Hermione! HERMIONE!" He yelled. Harry raised his eyebrows, so surprised to see Ron acting this strange over a girl.

Hermione saw Ron waving frantically and went red. Why was he making such a scene? Inside, she really didn't want everyone to know she was with Ron. Except for Malfoy, boy did she want him to know.

Ron pulled out her chair for her and sat down next to her, and began animatedly talking to her, his face glowing red.

Hermione just nodded along, not wanting to reply to any of his comments. Her gaze slowly slid over to the Slytherin table where she caught the eye of a certain blonde boy, who was staring over at her ignoring everyone around him. No shiver went down her spine; she felt no feeling of exhilaration, just a feeling of immense satisfaction that he was so focused on her and Ron.

And so, without thinking, she leaned over to Ron and whispered in his ear "I'm not hungry, lets go somewhere a little more private before first lesson." Ron's eyes widened, but he nodded happily and got to his feet, helping her up.

"Harry, mate, see you in Herbology, eh" Said Ron, winking at Harry, a grin plastered over his face. _She must like me. She MUST._

As they walked towards the doors, Ron slipped his hand into Hermione's, as if to make sure everyone knew she was his. Hermione was irritated, and knew what he was trying to do, but also knew that Malfoy was watching, so went along with it.

Draco boiled with rage on seeing this little display. He had seen it as if it had been in slow motion, Weasley's podgy hand twitching nervously before slipping into her small slender hand. And then she had taken it, entwining her hand with his.

Just before she and Ron had left the Great Hall, Hermione gave the Slytherin table one last glace, and smirked when she saw Malfoy's furious expression.

Once out of the Hall, Hermione didn't know what to do. She wasn't stupid, she knew exactly what 'let's go somewhere more private' implied, and was ashamed at herself for suggesting it to poor, mislead Ron. She didn't want to do…anything…with him, but how would she evade it? They were a couple now and that's what couples do…and Ron certainly seemed to think this.

"Where are you taking me, Herm?" Ron asked, grinning and squeezing her hand playfully, sending a disgusted, guilty shiver down her spine. She found the tone of voice he was using with her extremely creepy.

"I'm not sure…I need to go to the library to look something up…" Garbled Hermione, avoiding Ron's eyes and trying to ignore his little sigh at the word 'library'.

"Okay that's fine; I'll come with you then." He said eagerly, trying to pull her closer to him.

"Oh, but Ron, you'll find it ever so boring."

"I could never be bored when I'm with you."

Hermione was quite taken aback by this line. Since when was Ron so…cheesy? But she couldn't say no or act annoyed or he'd think she didn't like him, so she allowed Ron to tag along with her to the library. At least he couldn't try anything while they were in there.

How wrong she was.

Once in the library, Hermione lead Ron to a table right in front of Madame Pince's desk, surely he wouldn't want to do anything under her watchful eye?

"I'm going to go and browse the shelves, Ok? I'll be back in a minute." Said Hermione to Ron, who looked extremely disappointed.

Hermione went into the Herbology section and aimlessly trailed her finger over the rows of books in front of her, wondering.

Ron, however, wasn't going to wait for Hermione. He got agitated quickly, and decided to go looking for her. Maybe she had wanted him to come after her, after all, she _had_ said she wanted to go somewhere more private with him. She can't have lied about that, could she?

So, as Hermione innocently browsed the bookshelves, Ron crept up behind her and slid his arms gently around her waist.

"Hey Herm, I'm sorry, I couldn't wait for you." He whispered huskily into her ear, attempting to kiss her neck.

Hermione didn't know what to do, all she knew is that she did NOT want Ron kissing any of her body parts, so did the first thing that sprung to mind.

"OH!" She yelled in fake surprise. "Here's the book I was looking for! Could you possibly carry it to Herbology for me, Ron?" Said Hermione, spinning to face Ron and thrusting a large book into his hands.

"Er, sure." Mumbled Ron, disappointed that his advances had seemingly been rejected, but still eager to please Hermione.

_Well avoided, Hermione!_ She congratulated herself but knew in the back of her mind _I can't avoid him forever._


	10. Sunday

Hello readers! Cheers for reviews, lots of twists and turns in the story ahead, so keep reading!

Sunday

Over the next few days, Ron barely got to see Hermione at all; she was always in the Library studying or in her Quarters, supposedly alone. Although she convinced him it was all because of the approaching exams, Ron was sure there was something more to her avoidance, so on one lazy Sunday morning in the Gryffindor Common room he appealed to his best friend for advice.

"I think Hermione's avoiding me." He suddenly blurted out as he and Harry were doing their Divination homework.

"What do you mean?" Asked Harry, not looking up from his badly scribbled notes.

"This is serious mate. She never wants to spend time with me; she's always in the library studying…or in the Head Quarters with…with Malfoy." Ron crushed the parchment in his hand, a frown on his face as he mentioned Malfoy's name.

"You know what Hermione's like. NEWTs are soon." Harry replied calmly, scratching out a mistake on his work and consulting a large, brightly coloured lunar chart beside him.

"Yeah…but she never asks me to study with her or anything. I'm her boyfriend; she should be carving out her study-periods to spend time with me!" Ron grumbled indignantly, angry that Harry wasn't as ardent as he was in Hermione's supposed offences.

"Well, maybe you haven't shown her enough attention." Harry replied, this time looking up at Ron (who was now scarlet with rage) "I know what you can be like. Maybe you need to show her that you want to be the best boyfriend you can be."

"I AM a good boyfriend. She's just being all…_female_." Ron groused, absent mindedly poking the ashes in the blazing fire with a long rusty poker, letting sparks and stray embers fly.

"Right."

There was a silence between the two, but Ron couldn't focus on the work in front of him and expressed something that had been nagging the back of his mind for a while.

"Do you think something is going on with Hermione and Malfoy?" He asked, trying to sound casual, but secretly desperate to hear something reassuring.

"No, I really don't."

"But there's a chance they could be. They share a Quarters after all."

"They don't share a bedroom, Ron, just a common room."

"But there's a chance isn't there?"

"Well, yeah, a slim one though."

Ron sat back in his chair, looking thoroughly deflated, as if what Harry had just said settled the matter.

"Have you noticed him acting weirdly recently?"

"Malfoy's always acting weirdly."

"But…more so than usual?"

"I don't know, look, Ron, I suggest you just treat Hermione really well and accept the fact that work is a large part of her life. There is nothing between her and Malfoy; they've despised one another since first year. And after all, would precious pureblood Malfoy want to associate himself with Hermione?" Harry said reasonably, and then, picking up his quill suggested simply. "Maybe you should get started on your homework, it's gonna take us ages."

While this conversation calmed Ron down for a short time, soon enough his niggling doubt came back. He knew it had to be something to do with Malfoy…but her couldn't help but wonder that maybe if he did show some more attention to Hermione, she might want him more.

Hermione, however, was determined to avoid him as much as possible, and not out of spite, she just didn't want to have to pretend anymore. She was also truthfully wrapped up in so much school work – the NEWTs were getting closer by the day, and she was determined that not a day would go by when she wasn't studying like a lunatic for them.

Her hair, as a result of all the stress and lack of attention to it, had become extremely bushy – much to Malfoy's amusement as he watched her scribbling furiously in the Common Room the same Sunday morning.

"Morning, Mudblood." Malfoy greeted casually as he strode proudly into the room from his bedchamber, still wearing a silk green dressing gown with the Slytherin crest embellished proudly on it.

Hermione disdainfully lifted her hand, showing she had acknowledged him. This irked Malfoy, as recently Hermione hadn't been paying much attention to him, even with his best insults. Ever since their little meeting by Harriet the Hairy, she had seemed to want to pretend he didn't exist.

Malfoy racked his brain for insults or comments – anything to command her attention in a conversation or argument – _anything_. Then it hit him.

"I didn't know being the, erm, _faithful_ girlfriend of Weasel could make you so…bushy." Draco sneered, smirking widely as Hermione's focused hazel eyes shot up to meet his for the first time in days.

"Bushy? No that's just the stress of work, Ron's fine." She said, her words mumbled and disorganised as they left her mouth.

"Really? So, that's why you don't spend anytime with him then?" Draco replied sneakily, trying to hit a nerve wherever he could, he was convinced that she couldn't conceivably be _happy_ with Ron.

"Well, I've had a lot of work and not a lot of time on my hand for him. It's none of your concern, Malfoy." Hermione replied coolly, realising that Malfoy was trying to induce a quarrel, so, determined not to rise to his bait, she returned to a large dusty volume on Ancient Runes.

Malfoy gave up his attempts, he didn't want to show he cared any for Hermione and Ron's relationship – and why would he show it? It's not like he had any feelings he needed to hide…he simply decided to flop down on the sofa and observe Hermione as her quill sped across the parchment.

"How can you work all the time?" He finally blurted out abruptly; still annoyed that she would focus so hard on work when he was in the room.

"Because I want to do well in the NEWTs this year, as should you." She replied simply, blowing her page of work dry, the ink still glistening on the page.

"But it's so _dull._ Maybe that's why you take such pleasure in it"

"Too difficult for you, Malfoy?" Hermione retorted, smirking to herself. She knew how much Draco hated having his intelligence questioned.

Malfoy's pallid face suddenly filled with scarlet colouring, his eyebrows narrowing. He had always struggled to do well at school, although he pretended to not care in the least. His father had always piled on the pressure for top marks on him at home – and when he had found out that Hermione, a _mudblood_, was beating Draco at almost every subject, he was furious.

"_Malfoys always win. We are of noble blood, Draco. We are above mudbloods, halfbloods and even many purebloods alike, and you are bringing shame onto the family name. If you do not beat this…this _**girl**_ in more subjects, I will have no choice but to…let you go. I won't have this sort of shame on my family, Draco."_

Lucius's voice rang in Draco's ears as clearly as it had all those years ago. And to this day, Draco still didn't know what his father had meant by 'let you go', but was sure he didn't want to. His hands trembled as he thought of all the work that was piled up in a cupboard in his bedchamber. He knew he needed help…and the only person to help him would be _Granger. _But his pride forbade him to ask for help.

So, instead, he stalked into his bedchamber, and came back, much to Hermione's amusement, arms full of parchment and school books. He dropped them bad temperedly on the table in front of Hermione and took a seat, taking out an elegant black quill.

Meanwhile, Ron had given up on work and had left Harry for the boy's dorms. He lay back on his four-poster, thinking hard. Harry's words were still flying around his brain, maybe Harry was right. Maybe he wasn't showing Hermione enough attention, romantically. Then he was struck with a sudden idea.

He raced down into the Hogwarts Grounds, to a particularly large flower bed near the Greenhouses. A particularly beautiful patch of pink roses caught his attention, and he eagerly scampered up to them. He checked no one was around, and then picked a whole bunch, a wide grin on his face. _Girls love flowers_ he told himself over and over, reassuring himself.

In the Head Quarters, Hermione and Draco were both studying hard. Hermione's quill was serenely sliding across the parchment as she completed a series of difficult Arithmacy problems. Draco huffed and puffed and scrawled angrily as he tried to answer the same problems, in vain.

Hermione looked up from her work, surprised at the amount of noise Draco was making as he worked. Then she looked down at his messy work, and was very surprised. Draco was certainly struggling, and for the first time he seemed quite vulnerable so Hermione decided to be gentle with him.

"Malfoy, would you like…a hand with that?" She asked gently, looking at him with big hazel eyes.

"No, what makes you think I need _your_ help, Mudblood?" Malfoy snapped, his cold eyes whipping up from his work, immediately feeling slightly guilty as she was just being kind, and soon regretted turning down her help.

Hermione was hurt – she was just trying to be nice to him, to ease his work load. But she blew it off. _It's just Malfoy_ she told herself and returned to her own work.

A few hours of gruelling work later, Hermione went to the window for some air. She flung in open, looking out onto the serene grounds, and it looked beautiful in the late winter sunshine. Then suddenly, she saw movement below.

Ron

Ron with twelve enormous pink roses

Ron with twelve enormous pink SINGING roses

Ron with twelve pink SINGING roses, SINGING himself.

Serenading Hermione

As Ron sang loudly, lots of other windows from dorms nearby flew open, curious heads poking out. The grounds were full of jeering laughter as Ron sang to Hermione, blushing furiously.

His song went something like this:

_Oh, Hermione,_

_These roses are for you_

_Oh, Hermione,_

_These roses sing for you_

_Oh, Hermione_

_I'd do anything for you_

_Oh, Hermione,_

_I'd do anything for you_

And that was just the chorus; there were many, many sickly sweet verses also, and the roses harmonised beautifully with him. Hermione blushed with both anger and embarrassment. What had possessed him to do this? She needed to do something about it, but she didn't know what. She couldn't tell him to shut up; doing that would just make the situation more humiliating, so she had to just stand there in all the humiliating attention.

Malfoy, on hearing Ron's terrible singing voice, _had _to see this, and took a viewing spot next to Hermione, overjoyed to see that she was furious.


	11. Rash Decisions

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or the concept of wizards or Hogwarts or anything. Except for this story.

Just wanted to say thanks to all reviewers so far – you've all been great, and please keep reading! This chapter has the first kissing scene in it – and believe me, I didn't plan it, it just happened!

To reviewers - Special thanks to: **Soot Box**, **prin69** and **Incarnation**. Thanks also to: **-**AuroraVBorealis-, mysteriouscharm, Stegijsa, Eliot Z. Wheatherbee (great name!), zizzle, BlueEyedSoccaBabe, BlondeCurls, foxeran and lastly Goddess of life and death. Cheers!

Rash Decisions

Hermione felt Malfoy come up beside her and look out onto poor Ron as he sang and blushed even more profusely than before. Malfoy simply snorted as he observed the twelve roses and the poor desperate red head below. He wasn't surprised, he'd always known how Ron had felt about her, it was written all over him.

"Go away Malfoy; don't make things worse for me." Hermione hissed out of the corner of her mouth, a fake grin plastered over her face, wishing Ron would finish.

"And miss this? You're joking, this is gold." Malfoy sneered, smirking sadistically as Ron began to grow redder when he saw Malfoy.

"Please, Malfoy, _please_ go?" Hermione pleaded, looking up at him this time with big shining hazel eyes.

Malfoy couldn't explain it, but at that moment he felt that there was nothing left to do but to leave her be. To never again mention the incident that caused so much humiliation to her. He couldn't bear to see those eyes full of tears, he could barely look back into them as it was, so left her be. Yet as he stalked away towards his bedchamber, he couldn't control it; he had to take one more look at her leaning out the window, and wondered to himself what was going on inside her head.

Ron could take the embarrassment of being seen serenading a girl with twelve singing roses. He could take it because when he saw Hermione's 'smile' he knew it had to be all worth it – even worth Malfoy teasing him about it for the rest of his life. As he sang the last chorus, he actually got down onto his knees and threw his hands passionately into the air, he had felt this was dead appropriate, when in all reality, the onlookers just laughed and jeered harder. But Ron was completely blind to this, because Hermione was still looking down to him, still with the same smile fixed on her face.

Once he had finished, Hermione heaved a sigh of relief, and applauded Ron half heartedly, not wanting to make the situation worse by hurting his feelings. But this kind gesture had the wrong effect on poor Ron, who, still blinded to the jeering, thought what he was doing was _normal._ He was overjoyed to see Hermione applauding him, so he started up again, singing a ballad by the _Weird Sisters_. Hermione cringed as she heard the roar of jeering rise again. She could even hear some of the comments now:

"Look at the idiot down there!"

"Cant even sing!"

"What does she see in him?"

Fortunately, Ron didn't seem to be noticing these taunts, until -

"Hey Ron, your girlfriend doesn't look too chuffed at your serenade! Look at her!" A black haired Slytherin yelled from a downstairs window, and Ron heard him all too clearly. He looked up properly at Hermione, who looked dismayed that he'd started another song. She was biting her lip, blushing profusely, eyebrows narrowed.

Ron stopped singing, and slumped his shoulders in despair, suddenly all the insults and jeers became louder and louder, and didn't stop.

Hermione realised that he had noticed that she wasn't enjoying his performance, and saw him slouch over broken hearted, not able to look up at anyone. She had to so _something _to show all those jeering idiots. So she did the unthinkable, even though her heart and her head protested, it was the only thing to do.

She grabbed her cloak and ran out of the common room pulling it on messily so it half-hung off her shoulder.

"Granger! Granger, what the hell are you doing? You're not actually going to go down to that warbling weasel are you?" Malfoy shouted after her, shocked at her irrational and brave actions.

"Yes I am!" She yelled back as she clambered through the portrait hole, startling the Sirens who shrieked as she bounced past them.

Malfoy was shocked.

"She must like him." He stated aloud, although he wasn't quite sure why he did. How could she ever want to be with someone like Weasley? He was poor and not very good looking, not even that good on the Quidditch Pitch. What did he have that made him stand out?

Hermione, however, wasn't having deep thoughts as she charged down to the grounds. She hadn't planned what she was going to do, but as she flew out into the blustery grounds and saw Ron, she knew what she had to do.

He was trying to up root the roses and stop them from singing. He didn't know the counter charm because Fred and George had done it for him, so he was having some trouble, and his onlookers weren't making it easier for him, and the roses just got angrier and louder the more he tried to rip them out of the ground.

Hermione took a deep breath and ran up to him. She tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to face her. When he saw her, he flushed red, frowning at her, he opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Hermione got on her tip toes and kissed him.

The jeering became faint again as the couple kissed alone in the middle of the grounds, but the sun did come out bathing them in afternoon light, speckled as it passed through the trees. Hermione closed her eyes as she kissed her boyfriend, but she felt nothing. The scene was perfect, and the kiss should have been perfect too but, still, she felt nothing as her lips bumped gently against Ron's. No spark, none of the fireworks you are supposed to experience when you kiss someone. Just Ron's lips and embarrassment. And for the first time, Hermione felt that she was doing something very wrong indeed.

Ron, however, was overjoyed, although his attempts to deepen the kiss didn't work. He felt like a tidal wave had just passed over him, like a fire had been ignited inside him. To him, everything felt so…right. And for the first time in weeks, he felt like everything was going to be okay. This proved that she liked him, didn't it?

Malfoy stood at the window looking out upon the little display below. It physically sickened him to see them kissing. He convinced himself that it was because the thought of the mudblood and weasel kissing was gross, but this wasn't completely true. He felt sickened because he was jealous. He wasn't sure that he wanted to be the one kissing her down there, in front of all the onlookers; he just didn't want her kissing _him_.

Finally, they stopped kissing, and he watched them walk hand in hand back into the castle. As they walked up the steps to the big oak doors, he could have sworn he saw her look up at him, a fire burning in those expressive hazel eyes, making his heart pound violently against his ribs, and beating out a steady rhythm so loud he was sure that she could hear it.

The next morning, Monday dawned pouring with rain. Hermione looked out onto the rain-soaked grounds at the spot where she and Ron had kissed the day before and sighed. What was she to do now? That kiss had sealed her fate. She was now officially leading him on, and she was either going to have to break his heart, or have hers slowly suffocate.

She quickly got dressed, her head buzzing with a million thoughts at once, and was in another world as she drifted into the common room.

"Morning, Granger. How's lover boy? Still an embarrassment to you and the rest of the world?" Malfoy sneered as she passed, his eyes darkened by the fact that he hadn't slept at all the night before.

Hermione whipped out of her trance immediately when she heard his cold voice. "Ron is my boyfriend, Malfoy. He's not an embarrassment to me." She snapped back coldly, not meeting his eyes.

Malfoy smirked, and began to walk towards her. "Is he really? You're in denial, Granger. One day, when you're growing old with that ginger idiot, you're going to really regret that little display on the grounds yesterday." He said as he advanced, smirking even more as he saw her reaction.

"You don't know how I feel about Ron." She replied coolly, he voice shaking slightly, but this time her gaze met his.

"Oh, I know. I think you do too. Don't you see, Granger? You're going to let him suffocate you." Draco hissed, his eyes flashing with passion as he spat out his last sentence.

"Thanks for the advice, but you wouldn't understand. Since when do you have a heart?" Said Hermione, her words cutting right through Malfoy. She knew she had gone too far with that comment, but was not going to apologise to him. Why did he care so much, anyway? He was probably just trying to ruin her life, like he always did. She just ripped her gaze away from him and stalked out of the common room to breakfast.

Malfoy watched her leave, dismayed. He did have a heart, the same heart that had pounded hard when he met her gaze yesterday. It was the same heart that leapt when she spoke to him, however angrily, the same heart that he always ignored. But immediately after these thoughts flooded his head, he shook them out. "Malfoys don't listen to their hearts," he repeated to himself like a mantra. He had to defeat these feelings.

That morning, Hermione was to have Arithmacy with Professor Vector. She was delighted, as she loved this lesson, and it meant she didn't have to spend it with Ron who kept trying to make more advances on her. She was so relieved to say goodbye to him outside the classroom and walk into the beautiful marble hall to her seat at the front.

Malfoy strutted in a couple of minutes late, looking slightly ruffled and tired. Professor Vector was not impressed.

"Mister Malfoy, 5 points from Slytherin for your lateness, take your seat please." He snapped and Malfoy lazily sidled to his chair.

The lesson was enjoyed thoroughly by Hermione, who, for the first time in a while, had been able to ignore Malfoy entirely. She took ten pages of notes and happily answered many questions (always correctly) during the lesson.

Draco, however, struggled with everything in the lesson. It wasn't that he was thick or that he couldn't understand if he tried, he just couldn't keep his focus off Hermione, who kept infuriatingly answering all the questions correctly. The events of the day before were still plaguing his mind and he couldn't work out why he was so bothered about it. He stared at her angrily and dragged his hand through his silvery locks, trying to work out why he could tear his gaze away, the lesson washing over him completely, until the end-

"I shall be giving out practice test papers so you can all revise for your NEWTs properly. I shall be expecting an 'O' from each and every one of you!" Professor Vector exclaimed cheerily, sending large pink booklets to each student. Hermione took hers eagerly and began flipping through it excitedly, knowing inwardly that she could do every question easily. Draco took his, and looked at the first page dismayed. He hadn't been paying attention all year, and every question baffled him.

At the Gryffindor table that evening, Hermione sat between Harry and Ron and cheerily, she even let Ron drape his arm around her shoulders as she ate, she was in such high spirits. But she couldn't help but notice that Draco looked extremely troubled, he wasn't eating and every now and again she caught his eyes, which were flooded with raw emotion.

At the Slytherin table that evening, Draco sat next to Pansy who constantly whined in his ear all evening about how lonely she'd been, and how she hadn't seen her Drakiepoo for ages. He, however, wasn't listening in the slightest. He was too busy focusing on Hermione, observing her angrily as she ate happily with stupid scarhead and her boring boyfriend. His blood boiled when he saw Ron's arm creep over Hermione's shoulder protectively, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Drakie? Where's my sexy dragon off to? Drakie, why are you leaving? Is it me, do I smell funny? That's just Crabbe's feet, it's not me!" Pansy protested in an annoying high pitched voice as Draco rose from the table. He didn't say a word as she called after him; he needed to clear his head.

Hermione was surprised to see Malfoy leave his dinner so abruptly, and was amused and relieved that he ignored Pansy's whining. She was curious when she saw him storm through the Great Hall doors, and wanted to follow after him, but knew if she did, Ron would want to walk her up to the Head Quarters.

When Draco arrived in his bedchamber, he flopped back on his four-poster, his hands tangled in his ruffled blonde locks. All his problems shouted at him and scolded him in his subconscious and he couldn't escape. He needed to find some way to forget Hermione, to banish her from his mind. He needed to find some solution to his low exam marks, or his father…his father would disown him. And Draco couldn't stand that. He couldn't stand the blow to his ego, the shame. Then suddenly, the answer came to him like a bolt of lightening to his brain.

_I'll cheat_


	12. Ron's Watchful Eye

Hey there readers, ta for reviews

SO SO SO SO SO SORRY I haven't updated for MONTHS! I hope to be doing my story pretty frequently, so keep a lookout and keep reviewing because the plot shall thicken! So here's chapter 12…

Ron's Watchful Eye

Every morning at breakfast, the ceiling of the Great Hall would be getting brighter and brighter as a beautiful spring time approached. Suddenly everything seemed brighter, the corridors, the pupils, the lessons…

Hermione reflected on how picturesque the castle looked that morning as she and the boys walked down to their potions lesson. As they approached the dungeons, Hermione sighed. The stone walls were dark and mossy; the floor was damp and made their footsteps echo. Some things never change, no matter what season it was.

When they got to their dungeon, the door was bolted shut.

"We must be early, I guess." Said Harry, glancing at his watch and then leaning nonchalantly against the dungeon wall.

"Yeah, I guess so. Cold down here, isn't it?" Hermione stated, and Ron automatically put his arms around her waist. Although this was a kind gesture, Hermione felt sick. She was very grateful that Harry was there, so that Ron couldn't try anything else. As they stood there, awkwardly, she knew she'd have to tell him soon that she couldn't be with him, but how to do it?

Then, the dungeon door swung open on its own accord, so the three traipsed in, but they were by no means early. The whole of their Potions class were already assembled in the classroom.

"Ah, well if it isn't our celebrity and our pathetic excuse for puppy love. So, Potter, Weasley and Granger, you've finally decided to join us? I'm honoured enough to take 30 points from Gryffindor for you. Sit." Snape spat sarcastically, smirking with glee at the prospect of taking points from the house he despised more than anything (except Harry, of course).

"But Professor, we thought the door was locked!" Ron argued, trying to look brave in front of Hermione.

"Tell me Weasley, when, in the 6 ½ years you've been attending my lessons, has my door ever been locked before a lesson?" Snape retorted icily "5 more points from Gryffindor for your stupidity."

Ron burned scarlet, but Hermione and Harry managed to secure him onto his seat before he did anything rash. Ron smiled gratefully at Hermione, but Hermione wasn't looking at him. Ron followed her gaze to Malfoy who was sitting on the other side of the dungeon, idly swinging on the back legs of his chair between Crabbe and Goyle, looking unusually pale. Ron was immediately confused, and startled! Why was Hermione looking at _Malfoy _of all people?

Hermione snapped out of her gaze when she saw Ron had noticed who she was looking at and pretended to be focusing on the ingredients for Visionary Potions that Snape was writing on the board. Ron glanced at her and then Draco suspiciously, a plan slowly forming in his mind as he felt a spark of anger go off inside of him.

Draco pretended to be swinging on his chair without a care in the world; he just casually smirked around the room and twisted his quill between his fingers. But inside, he was frightened; a frantic plan was forming in his mind. Snape's words simply lapped over him, he was too busy focusing on the questions in his head – _how will I cheat without people finding out?_ He wondered to himself. He gingerly rubbed his eyes under which deep grey circles had formed - a mark of how little sleep he had gotten recently.

Throughout the rest of the day, Ron watched Hermione and Draco like a hawk, and therefore often picked up on furtive glances they shot one another. He noticed that Draco had become slightly on edge recently, his hands shook slightly and there was a hint of panic in his stony, tired eyes.

Hermione had noticed this too and was convinced it was because of the NEWTs. She was irritated that he incessantly refused her help, like she wasn't good enough for him or something, although she didn't have much time to ponder on Draco. Her mind was otherwise engaged on thoughts of how to appropriately break up with Ron.

Ron, however, had no intention of letting Hermione slip away.

She was pondering this in her bedroom when suddenly there was a sharp tap on the window pane. Immediately curious, Hermione pulled back the drapes to find a rather small owl hovering outside, it's leg weighed down with what looked like a large bundle of letters in pink envelopes.

"Pig!" She exclaimed, reaching out and letting the tiny creature climb onto her arm. Crookshanks eyed the little owl hungrily.

"What's Ron doing sending me letters when he could just come visit?" She asked aloud, not really requiring a response.

She opened the first envelope, and a strong pink tinted haze of perfume drifted out, making her sneeze violently. Irritated, she opened the heart shaped note inside, it said:

_I sent you perfume, because it's sweet like you_

_Ron_

_Xxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Hermione sighed exasperatedly, and opened all the other little love notes, and they all contained similar messages.

"Granger, what IS that smell?" Draco exclaimed, leaning idly against her doorframe, holding his nose.

"Ron."

"Weasley? I always thought he smelt sort of musty." Said Draco, wrinkling up his nose disgustedly and waving a hand in front of his face to clear the air of the looming flowery scent.

"No, he sent it to me in a letter." Hermione replied, still reading through all the sickly sweet notes, sighing.

"So, you're still with that corny idiot? I don't understand you at all." He said, shaking his head, his eyes gleaming.

"It's really none of your business." Hermione retorted.

"Well, I make it my business. You're obviously not happy with him." Draco replied sneakily.

"What makes you say that?" Asked Hermione distractedly, dumping a couple of the letters into the trash can, and a few of them squealed in protest.

Draco raised an eyebrow as he watched her shred a particularly annoying singing note and throw the pieces in the bin. "You're eradicating all his love notes, Granger. Not exactly my idea of true love you've got going there."

"What do _you _know about love?" Hermione snapped, immediately stopping destroying the notes.

"A lot more than you think." Draco replied, not really knowing why he said it - it just seemed to slip out of his mouth. He went slightly pink, and Hermione looked at him in amused surprise, but he left abruptly before she could make a sneering retort.

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron and Harry were playing chess together, and for once, Ron was loosing terribly. As his queen got wrestled to the ground by one of Harry's pawns, Harry knew there must be something wrong.

"Ron, is everything OK?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine." Ron replied vaguely, picking up his queen, who was cursing at him violently, and took her off the board.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah."

"I thought everything was fine with you two now, what happened?" Harry inquired again.

"Have you noticed anything strange about Malfoy recently?" Ron asked, suddenly changing the subject.

"We've been through this." Harry replied calmly sending his bishop to square C4.

"I know but…well I have. He's always looking so pale and anxious...he doesn't strut like he used to… And I think we should look into it." Said Ron, trying to sound casual.

"Look into it…how?" Asked Harry, raising an eyebrow, knowing that Hermione was surely behind this all, but slightly curious at the same time.

"Follow him around a bit." Replied Ron, trying to sound casual, but his voice was unusually high.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no. No. Look, Ron, we can't just stalk him around, he's bound to notice. This is just an accident waiting to happen." Protested Harry, watching his pawn pummel one of Ron's knights angrily with little curled stone fists – Ron obviously wasn't concentrating.

"Since when do we ever get caught? Come on, please do this for me?" Ron pleaded. His expression was so pathetic, that Harry had to agree.

Draco crept up to the Head Quarters after Quidditch Practice, his mind blank except for the task he had to complete, not even stopping for a shower. As he crept past Hermione's bedroom he could hear her steady breathing. _Good_ he thought _she won't hear me leave_.

Pulling on some black robes and coving his silver-blond head with the hood, he crept soundlessly out of the Head Quarters. As he slid downstairs silently, he checked around every corner with a little mirror in case he ran into Peeves, Mrs. Norris or any number of other pupils. He could feel his heavy heart beat rapidly in his chest as he crept stealthily towards his destination. The castle was unnaturally dark, and got darker still as Draco's feet took him down…down…down.

Meanwhile, Harry and Ron were discussing Fred and George and their new shop opening in Hogsmeade in their dormitory while the others slept.

"Reckon we'll be able to go to Hogsmeade and check it out soon?" Said Harry hopefully "The way our lessons are going, I'm thinking a few Puking Pastilles would go down nicely."

"Yeah, I agree, and I need to stock up on Dungbombs. Word is that George managed to create a whole range of new and more disgusting scents – bet Filch will be so happy about that, eh?" Exclaimed Ron enthusiastically, then suddenly he had an idea and dropped his voice straight away. "Reckon they've made anything we could use to tail Malfoy?"

"I dunno…might have, we could look into it." Replied Harry, wholly sick of discussing Malfoy's comings and goings…wait, that was it! "Ron! The Map!"

"Oh yeah! The Marauders Map!" Cried Ron, excitedly, desperate to find out whether Malfoy was in Hermione's dormitory, making Dean stir in his bed mumbling something about West Ham in a slurred sleepy voice.

"Keep your voice down, Ron!" Hissed Harry as he rummaged around in his trunk for the scrap of parchment they had relied on for so many years. After reciting the password (_I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_) they searched the map for Malfoy's ink dot. Ron's heart leapt when he saw that it wasn't in Hermione's room with her, and was pleased to see that she was fast asleep, safe in her bedroom.

"Well, he's obviously somewhere he shouldn't be – look, he's not in the Head Quarters. Could be patrolling the corridors I suppose, but Hermione isn't with him." Said Harry, a frown forming on his face- did Malfoy often make night time excursions?

"Look!" Yelped Ron excitedly, pointing at the dungeons below the Slytherin Common Room where they had their lessons.

Sure enough, there was Malfoy's dot, frantically charging down into the dungeons. Without one word, Harry and Ron leapt out of bed and within minutes they were under the invisibility cloak heading down…down…down.


	13. Watch the Sunset With Me

Hey readers!

THANKYOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR REVIEWS! Has encouraged me to update as often as possible – although I am having a bit of a problem with the internet server at the moment, grrr!

Keep reading and reviewing, wanna know what Draco's up to? Here's chapter 13…

Watch The Sunset With Me

It was almost midnight when Draco arrived outside Snape's dark, damp dungeon. "_Lumos" _he whispered after he had decided he was alone, and he slipped into the dungeon, praying that he wouldn't get caught.

He would never have seen himself taking these sorts of risks for good marks, he was always to proud to consider the fact that he might need to resort to cheating. Over the past week, a plan had come together in his mind, though he had never expected that he would have to go to these measures to fulfil it.

It seemed like months ago that he had found the recipe for Scientserum in Moste Potente Potions. Knowing that he needed help, Draco had sneaked into the Restricted Section and had found the dusty volume by chance. Scientserum promised that it would give the drinker an hour of pure knowledge – just what Draco needed to scrape through his exams. The potion, however, was very difficult to make, and many of the ingredients were not readily available to him, but he knew where he could find them…For days he had wrestled with himself over whether to go through with it – whether to take the risk of getting expelled for a few potion ingredients. But Draco also knew that if he didn't pass his exams, he'd loose his pride, his respect and his father.

And this is how Draco Malfoy ended up in Snape's dungeon at midnight on Wednesday night, with Harry and Ron hot on his trail.

"Why's he gone into Snape's dungeon?" Whispered Ron looking blankly at the map as Malfoy's dot disappeared into the dungeon.

"I don't know, do I? You're pulling the cloak off me, Ron, slow down!" Harry hissed back, pulling the cloak over his head.

"So, should we sneak in after him, then?" Ron asked when the reached the big, mossy oak door which was slightly ajar.

"Yeah, we'll have to slip through the gap though, or Malfoy'll notice the door opening." Said Harry, pressing himself up against the door frame and squeezing through the gap left by Malfoy followed by Ron.

"What do you think he's doing down –"

"SHH!" Harry hissed, but still burning with curiosity. They couldn't take the chance of getting caught by Malfoy when they needed to find out what he was up to.

They could see the light from Malfoy's wand tip advancing towards the other side of the dungeons – to Snape's store cupboard. The boys gave each other sidelong glances as they remembered sneaking into that very same store cupboard to steal ingredients themselves for the Polyjuice Potion. If Malfoy was trying to get in there, they knew he must be brewing something very dangerous.

Draco, however, was having a bit of trouble penetrating the cupboard. It seemed that Snape had put some sort of charm on it, and the doors were jammed shut. Draco racked his brains, trying to remember some sort of spell or charm that might open the doors – and then he remembered. Last year, he and his father had undergone a search from the ministry, and therefore had had to hide some of their less…orthodox possessions. Draco had a suspicion that the same spell may have been used on the store cupboard. Concentrating hard, Draco cast the counter-charm smoothly.

"Ouventru." He murmured, and to his surprise and joy, the doors burst open, revealing the odd assortment of plants and fungi inside. Quickly grabbing a particularly poisonous looking pink toadstool and a strand of unicorn mane-hair he needed and packing them into a small brown pouch, Draco swiftly turned to leave the dungeon.

Harry and Ron watched in shock as they saw Malfoy take the ingredients from the cupboard. They couldn't imagine what he might be trying to brew – and why he needed to sneak around to make it. Although they were both burning with questions they both kept silent, fearing that they might get caught. Just as Malfoy was leaving the dungeon however, Ron broke the silence with a badly stifled sneeze.

Draco stopped in his tracks, frantically tucking the little brown pouch into his cloak pocket "Who's there?" he hissed. His heart beat wildly as his eyes and his wand raked the room, looking for a shady figure lurking somewhere in the shadows. Draco couldn't see anyone, and didn't want to stick around to check, so left swiftly through the doors, desperate to leave the dungeons. He left in too much of a hurry, however, and forgot the close the store cupboard properly, Snape would know by daybreak that someone had been in his cupboard.

"So, what do you think he's up to?" Ron whispered to Harry the next morning in Transfiguration

"I dunno…looked pretty shady to me." Harry replied while pretending to take notes on McGonagall's lecture on trans-gender transfiguration.

"Yeah…bet it's something to do with Hermione too…" Ron murmured resentfully.

"Give it a rest, Ron, not everyone's lives revolve around Hermione, least of all Malfoy's." Said Harry sceptically.

"I see the way he looks at her, and I don't like it…we should look into this." Said Ron, looking at Harry meaningfully.

"Uh oh."

"Please, Harry, what if he's doing something illegal? What if he's trying to hurt Hermione – or anyone at all? It's our duty to find out." Ron argued ardently.

At the word 'duty', Harry's auror/hero mentality took over. "Ok, we'll keep an eye. But I'm not going to start following Hermione around too." Said Harry, before Ron could suggest it.

Hermione was becoming increasingly anxious, with the stress from exams and the stress from Ron being more possessive than ever. Her hair had become such an untameable fizzy mass that she could barely see through it all sometimes. Everywhere she went she seemed to just get more and more stress added – whether in lessons, whether with Ron and Harry, or sometimes both. The only sanctuary and peace she got was in the Head Quarters, or the vast grounds and the bank by the lake.

On that particularly warm spring day after all the lessons and work of the day had finished, Hermione sat contentedly in the pleasant evening sunshine, the sky pink with smatterings of purple as the sun began to disappear below the horizon, reading Hogwarts: A History for the 106th time. With her feet in dipped in the lake, the clear blue water lapping around her ankles, and the book in her lap, Hermione was in heaven, until a shadow crept up behind her, blocking her light. A tall gangly shadow. Ron.

"Hey Herm - why don't you leave the book for a while and talk to me instead, you've read it enough times after all." Ron requested, flopping down on the grass beside her, trying to subtly pull the book off her lap.

"Hello Ron." Said Hermione, who hadn't really listened to what Ron had said.

"How are you?" Hermione shrugged "How are things?" Hermione shrugged "How's _Malfoy_?" Hermione looked up, eyes wide.

"What do you mean?" She asked, trying to sound innocent, but her heart had begun to pound violently, although she wasn't sure why she felt guilty.

"You spend enough time together." Ron replied resentfully tugging at a tuft of grass.

"He's Head Boy. I'm Head Girl. We have to spend time together." Hermione retorted coolly, turning her attention back to the large volume in her lap.

"You're my girlfriend. I'm your boyfriend. Why don't you spend time with me, too?" Ron snapped, glaring at her, but she refused to meet his eyes.

"We're spending time together now."

"What's he done to you?"

Hermione slammed down her book on the bank beside her, squashing a bunch of poor unsuspecting daisies. "Quit with the whole Malfoy thing, will you? He's not doing anything to me!"

"Then why are you so touchy?"

"If I'm touchy, it's because of YOU! I'd rather spend time with Draco than with you, at least he has some MATURITY!" Hermione roared, feeling a chance to end it with Ron come up.

But before she could do or say anything else, Ron had decided he had had enough, and got to his feet slowly. On his way back to the castle, he realised something.

"She said Draco." He muttered, his heart rate slowing to a mournful pace. In his mind, he knew it was over. But whether he was prepared to accept this in his heart, whether he was prepared to allow things to end with Hermione, this was a different case altogether. Like Draco, Ron had problems with accepting the truth.

Hermione, however, stayed by the lake, but felt a lot less euphoric than she had. The sun had almost completely disappeared behind the trees in the forest, and the water in the lake was suddenly icy cold, bathed in midnight blue. She was just about to get up and leave, when a second, taller more substantial shadow skulked up behind her.

"Hello Granger, what's with Weasley? Finally give him the boot?" Draco asked scornfully, a slight note of resentment in his voice.

"It's not really any of your business, Malfoy." Hermione replied frostily, putting down her book.

"Remind me Granger…why _are_ you with him?" Draco inquired, his grey eyes staring into her hazel ones.

Hermione could remember exactly why she was with Ron. It was pretty much to annoy Draco, to make him jealous…but she couldn't admit to that so simply said. "I just am." And tried to look away from his gaze.

Draco chuckled to himself. "That's not an answer, Granger. If I were you, I'd end it. He'll get over it."

Hermione thought about this for a second, yes, she wanted to end it, and it would be a load off her mind…and she was just about to conquer with him, but before she could do so, she realised something. "Why do you care so much?"

Draco wanted to say 'I don't', he really did, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to say it, because he knew that it was a lie. So, instead, simply said "It's just sad when people waste their lives I suppose."

"But you hate me!" Hermione protested, although her heart leapt slightly.

"I hate Potter. I hate Weasley." Draco replied simply.

"Me too, you hate me, you call me mudblood all the time."

"Yeah, I do." Said Draco, his tone not wavering at all as he looked straight into her eyes. Hermione was surprised to note how close they were to one another; and she noted, with alarm, that she couldn't quite bring herself to pull away.

"Um…so doesn't that mean that…um…" As she stumbled over her words, she could feel herself moving closer and closer to Draco, she could feel his warm breath tickling her cheek as he began to lean in closer. Like they were both hypnotised, everything around them swirled into strange darkening shapes, except for their faces which were bathed in the pale pink light of the setting sun. Like they were hypnotised they fell closer towards one another in silence.

Suddenly Hermione realised what she was doing and jerked her head back from Malfoy's, who had also come to the same shock and jerked back too, awkwardly. He shook his head abruptly and sprang to his feet, dusting off his robes.

"Where are you going?" She asked immediately pulling her feet out of the water and drying them on her cloak.

"Where do you think? Slytherin Common Room." Draco replied in an unnecessarily sharp tone, and with that, stalked back to the castle. Hermione flinched a little at his snappiness, but then remembered who she was talking to.

But despite her knowledge of how much Malfoy did, indeed, hate her, she couldn't help thinking _why was he sitting on the bank, watching the sunset with me?_


	14. Bathwater

Hello again faithful readers!

I hope you're all enjoying the story so far; I'll try and make it as good as I can for all of you, as you all rock my socks off with all your wonderful reviews! It's a great help and encouragement! Suggestions welcome!

I actually named this chapter after one of my favourite songs of all time: Bathwater by No Doubt. Now there's a classic – listen to it, I urge you all

Seatbelt fastened? Here's chapter 14…

Bathwater

I was sitting with Mudblood Granger on the bank beside the lake watching the sunset.

_I was sitting with Mudblood Granger on the bank beside the lake watching the sunset._

Draco repeated this sentence over and over in his head, but still couldn't come to grips with it. As far as he could see, he had no motives for what had just happened. He had a motive to go down to Hermione, he saw her sitting with Weasley down by the lake and they appeared to be having an argument. So he felt that he should go down and see what was going on, stir it up a bit maybe. But for what happened as he was talking to her, he couldn't justify. He had absolutely no reason, except perhaps the way her eyes drew him in.

There was something about those hazel eyes.

Draco shook himself furiously. What's the use of thinking about that silly girl's eyes? Of course there was a reason. Moment of weakness. Romantic atmosphere with the sunset and all. I mean, would things have been different had it been any other girl? Granger is just another girl, there's nothing about her, and certainly nothing about her damn _eyes_.

Hermione walked off in the opposite direction to Malfoy, up to the Library. Her mind was numb; all she could see was how close Draco's face had been to hers and the way it had felt. It had been so different to all her clumsy encounters with Ron, all of which had been extremely awkward and embarrassing. She didn't know what it was, but just the fact that there was an 'it' – that there was something there – made her mind reel.

How could he do this to me? She asked herself, almost aloud. There couldn't be anything between her and Malfoy. She'd always imagined that it was an impossibility for a relationship like that to change in any way. Hate is a strong word, so Hermione had always been careful when using it, but had always applied it to Malfoy without a thought. Surely feelings like that were irreversible?

_I'm with Ron _she told herself. Forget Draco. Who is he to dominate my thoughts anyway?

No matter where she went or what she did, however, Hermione couldn't ignore the fact that she had almost cast aside her best friend tonight, and had almost welcomed in the enemy.

"Ron, are you okay?" Harry asked Ron concernedly after Quidditch practice the next day. "On the pitch you seemed kinda…unfocused. I mean, you really shouldn't fly that close to the willow."

"Hermione."

"Ah."

"Yeah. It's bad."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Malfoy."

"Ah."

"Yeah. What's his problem?"

"He's a Malfoy. What's he done?"

"I don't know! Hermione just doesn't seem to hate him like she used to!" Ron exploded, even though he was aware that what he was saying sounded extremely immature.

"I don't know, Ron, maybe she's just found some sort of way to put up with him. They do have to spend a lot of time together, Hermione must be going crazy." Harry replied wisely, scraping the mud off his Quidditch boot.

Ron slumped onto a bench next to him, hanging his head despairingly. "I just don't want to loose her, Harry. She puts me through hell worrying, but she's the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Yeah. Yeah I get it." Harry replied, thinking wistfully of a certain red-haired someone. "Women, eh?"

"But if that scum of the earth Malfoy is feeding some sort of potion to Hermione to screw her up, I swear to Merlin I will rip him limb from limb."

"Don't worry, mate. We'll make sure he doesn't get a chance to do anything."

Snape's Dungeons were colder than ever that afternoon in Potions. Harry sat awkwardly between Ron and Hermione, as the latter was refusing to speak to her boyfriend at all.

"Today, we will be testing and studying the effect of these three potions. One is an engorging potion; the other two are engorging potions with problems. By the end of the lesson I expect you to have been able to identify each potion, and what's wrong with it (if anything), and how you could possibly improve it. You have 1 hour. Anyone who fails will have a detention cleaning out Professor Hagrid's Skrewts." Said Snape lazily to his class, he had clearly not had a good day.

Each table was given three beakers of steaming potion to share and study. Hermione immediately got out her parchment and quill and began writing furiously, ignoring Ron and Harry's dismayed faces. She wasn't in the mood to talk or help anyone; she just needed to get her mind, and eyes, off Malfoy.

Ron and Harry exchanged worried glances, but neither was brave enough to ask Hermione for help.

"Okay, Ron, get out the advanced potions textbook then." Said Harry, wearily.

As Ron was getting out the textbook, Harry observed Malfoy walking up to the front of the class and whispering something to Snape, who, in turn, nodded Malfoy out of the class. Harry raised an eyebrow, and was immediately desperate to investigate.

He decided not to tell Ron or let on what he had just seen – he knew Ron would just overreact and ruin everything. Instead, Harry decided to follow Malfoy. So, he swiftly reached out and picked up an empty vial lying on the table and smashed it on the floor.

"Potter, what is the meaning of this interruption? Merlin knows why you're in this potions group if you cannot even keep hold of a small vial! What are you waiting for, Potter? Pick up the glass and dispose of it immediately!" Snape roared, gleeful to vent some of his anger onto one of his least favourite people.

Harry didn't reply, but simply obeyed Snape, and as a result 'accidentally' cut himself on a shard of glass.

"Sir, I'm bleeding. I need to go to Madam Pomfrey to stop the blood." Harry said to Snape, showing him a shallow yet bloody wound on his palm.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your clumsiness, Potter. Go on then, boy, and be quick!" Snape said scornfully to Harry.

Harry swiftly left the dungeon, leaving a confused Ron behind him as he went. As soon as he had set foot out of the dungeon door, he pulled out a small scrap of parchment that had served him well for many years.

_I solemnly swear I am up to no good._

His eyes scanned the page for signs of Malfoy, and to his surprise saw that he was very nearby. He had only gone round the corner to the dungeon at the end of the corridor. Harry sidled stealthily down the Malfoy's dungeon and put his ear to the door, he could hear a cauldron bubbling a hissing loudly. He was desperate to see what Malfoy was doing, what was he trying to make? Suddenly, he heard a 'bang' come from what he supposed was Malfoy's cauldron, so took the opportunity to push open the door slightly so he could look in.

He could now see Malfoy standing over a large pewter cauldron, stirring a shining light purple potion slowly. A slightly grey mist was floating gently off the top of the potion, and the surface was bubbling calmly

The sun was setting outside in the Grounds, and Hermione could see its pinkish tinted beauty through one of the large windows overlooking the Lake. She could see the spot where she had sat with Malfoy the night before and smiled secretively to herself. Suddenly she heard heavy footsteps. Malfoy. She could tell he was standing just behind her and her heart skipped a beat (although she was ashamed to acknowledge it), it was the first time they had been around one another since the night before.

For a while Malfoy just stood there, and Hermione pretended she hadn't noticed that he was behind her. Then he finally said something:

"What are you doing up here?" He demanded sharply, his tone surprising Hermione, so she turned and glared at him.

"I live here, Malfoy." She replied angrily, a little bit confused.

"Yes, yes, I know _that_, but shouldn't you be making up with that stupid weasel by now?" Asked Malfoy mockingly, with an edge of bitterness in his voice.

"How do you know that I haven't already made up with him?" Said Hermione, and then she stood up trying to draw herself up to her full height, this proved fruitless however as Draco still towered over her.

"You didn't sit together at Lunch. And he didn't attempt to grope your thigh in any lessons today." Said Draco slyly, smirking when he saw Hermione flinch at the use of the word 'grope'.

"We don't always sit together, that's no evidence at all and besides, we're not fight…Ron doesn't grope my thigh!" Hermione protested indignantly, and was slightly worried that Malfoy had noticed Ron's irritating under-the-desk shenanigans.

Draco chuckled mirthlessly, taking a slight step closer to Hermione, who continued to glare up at him.

"Maybe you have other reasons for hanging around here today." Said Draco sneakily, with a self satisfied smirk.

"As a matter of fact, I was just watching the sunset, so leave me to it…unless you're going to join me - again…" Replied Hermione innocently, with a slight devious sparkle in her eyes.

Malfoy's eyebrows immediately narrowed and he took a step back from Hermione. "No. I wouldn't spend another evening with you for a thousand Galleons," Malfoy paused before sounding out two more syllables clearly and contemptuously "Mudblood." Then he swept into his bed chamber leaving Hermione standing alone in the darkness as the sun had almost completely disappeared below the horizon behind her.

Hermione was speechless. She hadn't realised how long it had been since he had called her that, and it hurt like it had the first time all those years ago. Her eyes filled with angry tears, she was furious that she hadn't been able to make any kind of retort, and was desperate to pay him back for this. She wanted to see his grey eyes burn with envy again.

_Ron,_

_Come up to the Head Quarters (password: bathwater), I need to talk to you._

_Hermione_

Ron clutched the note blankly in his hands, which were starting to get very clammy. His heart began to hammer against his rib cage uncomfortably – and his mind couldn't help but ask the question _is she going to end it?_

He looked around the Common Room despairingly for support from his best friend, but then remembered that he was with Ginny giving her flying tips. He didn't stop to think that it is a bit odd that they are doing this in Ginny's dorm room.

Ron proceeded up to Hermione's Quarters, the note now screwed up tightly in his sweaty palm.

"Bathwater," He muttered, half heartedly. The moment he stepped into the Head Common Room, a bushy haired face came crashing towards his bemused, ginger haired one, and kissed him like it was going out of style.

"Hermione! What's gotten into you? Not that I'm complaining or anything…" Ron asked, bewildered after they finally broke apart.

"I don't know Ron…I've been under appreciating you recently…so I want to make it up to you…" Hermione replied perhaps a little over-suggestively. Ron's eyes opened wide with joy. "Okay, well not _that _far Ron, but I do want to make you happy…" Hermione was perfectly aware that she was shamelessly lying through her teeth.

"I don't have a problem with that!" Said Ron joyfully, grinning inanely.

"Good…so…" And with that, they resumed their little 'session' on one of the plush sofas by the fire. Using her friend for the sole purpose of making her worst enemy jealous was by no means acceptable to Hermione, and even she couldn't rationalise the situation when her boyfriend's lips came crashing down on hers once again.

Ron doesn't notice, but Hermione certainly does when in walks Draco Malfoy. Her eyes had been open and waiting for the moment when he walked in and she could finally triumph over him.

His grey eyes darkened when he sees the entwined 'lovers' before him and his heart pounded angrily when he saw Hermione's eyes twinkling innocently up at him. Through the appearance of purity, those eyes were jeering at him.

_Revenge is sweet._


	15. Fireworks

Disclaimer: Harry Potter…blah blah blah…not mine…blah blah blah…this plot is mine…blah blah blah…yeah you know the drill. J.K Rowling good, me bad.

Yes, I am very aware that I haven't updated for a long time, I hope I haven't lost any readers as a result… but anyway, the story continues, the end's just about in sight. Suggestions and reviews are very welcome, thank you to all current reviewers; your encouragement has fuelled this story!

Ok, read on!

Fireworks

After Ron had left the common room, after everyone was gone, Hermione was alone. Suddenly the common room was very cold as she sat there on the window ledge staring out onto the open grounds. She shuddered involuntarily as she remembered the look in Malfoy's eyes when he had seen her earlier…

"That…cretin's gone, is he?"

Hermione awoke with a start from her trance. She hadn't expected Malfoy to reappear so soon, and was certainly not ready for the exchange they were about to endure.

"Yes." Hermione replied, not able to bring herself to look around at him, but not bothering to fight back on Ron's behalf.

Malfoy went over to the sofa on the other side of the room with his back to Hermione, not knowing quite how to express himself. Minutes passed as the two sat in eerie silence, both very aware of the other's presence. Finally, Malfoy broke the silence.

"That's first time I've seen you kiss him, Granger." He said, gruffly.

"We're not into PDA."

"That's not really what I meant. I meant how convenient that the first time you're properly with Weasel, I happen to walk in." Malfoy replied, trying to sneer, but sounding rather strangled.

"It's not my fault you barged in."

"Yes, I rather think it is, actually, seeing as we share this common room. If you didn't want me to see, you would have gone to your chamber."

"Oh? What are you trying to say, Malfoy?" Spat Hermione, trying to sound innocent, but still turning round to glare at the back of his silvery blonde head.

"I think you know, Granger." Replied Malfoy coolly, with a slightly self-righteous air.

"No, enlighten me."

"No, I'd like to hear it from you."

There was another long silence, in which both parties tried to think up something incredibly witty to say to the other, but neither had any luck. Eventually, Hermione said something she'd been desperate to say for a long time.

"You know what? I just don't get why you _care _so much about my business with Ron." She said, turning back to stare out of the window, but not really seeing anything except for her own, slightly troubled expression.

"I don't."

"Yeah, so you keep saying, and as much as I'd like to believe you, I don't."

"Why do you care that I might care?"

"I don't care."

"Yes, you do. You want me to care."

"You want me to think you don't care!"

"This conversation is getting very juvenile."

"You just want to avoid facing the facts, and I want answers."

"What are these facts I need to face then, Granger?"

Hermione turned back to look at Malfoy who had now gotten up from his seat and was now standing next to the fire place, the flames illuminating his face. He was leaning against the mantelpiece, his fingers curled around the edge, his knuckles were white, and she could see his face was contorted into a very frustrated expression. He almost looked vulnerable.

And there sat Hermione, all riled up, ready to say something very cutting, yet she couldn't open her mouth. It was suddenly very dry, her breathing began to regulate as she wound down from her rage and simply observed Malfoy. Suddenly she could take it no longer, she couldn't see him like this, and suddenly she wished that he hadn't seen her with Ron.

"Hey Ron, how'd it go, mate?" Harry asked his friend when he arrived looking very flushed in the Gryffindor Common room.

"A-maz-ing, dude. 'Mazing." Ron replied, his eyes glazing over slightly with a dreamy sort of look.

"Oh, I get it." Harry said, chuckling slightly. "I gotta say, it's great to see you so happy again. You and Herm were meant for each other, you know?"

"Yeah, I know. I still don't like the thought of her living with that Malfoy git though. D'ya know, he barged right in when I was with her!" Ron grumbled, his fist tightening into a ball when he mentioned Malfoy's name.

"He did? How did Hermione take it?" Asked Harry amusedly, imagining a very angry, bushy Hermione bristling at Malfoy.

"I'm not sure; she just looked at him with a funny expression on her face, and then carried on kissing me. I think she might have been signalling to him to leave or something, because he did." Said Ron shrugging, a big grin on his face when he started thinking about Hermione again.

"Yeah…probably…" Harry replied pensively, a slight suspicious note in his voice which Ron didn't seem to pick up on.

"Anyway, I'm going to turn in, g'night." Said Ron before punching Harry playfully on the shoulder and then retiring to the boy's dorms.

"What was that about? Why's Ron so happy? It's creepy," Asked an amused voice sarcastically from behind Harry.

"Hey Ginny. Nah, he's cool, he's just been visiting Hermione, that's all." Replied Harry, grinning up at Ginny.

"Ah, the happy, yet not so happy couple. How are things with them, then?" She asked quirking an eyebrow at a very happy Ron who was dancing up the marble staircase.

"Swimmingly, apparently." Said Harry in a very unconvinced tone, watching Ron fly around the corner up to their bedroom.

"You don't sound convinced, Harry," Said Ginny after observing the very confused expression on Harry's face, "And I think I know why, too."

"You do? Has Hermione said anything to you?" Harry replied, spinning round to face Ginny.

"No, but I am a very good observer. I think I have some sort of idea of what's going on." Replied Ginny omnisciently.

"It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Asked Harry, inwardly dreading Ginny's answer.

"Yes, I think it might just be."

"I prayed that that wasn't the case, but maybe it is."

"Hermione's not stupid, Harry, maybe we've misjudged him…"

"No, you know him Ginny! He's pure evil. If he does anything to her, I swear…" Said Harry passionately, imagining himself giving Malfoy a right good smack in the face.

"Yeah, I know you would Harry…"

"You know, I he did anything to you…I'd kill him."

"Really?"

"Yeah…"

Suddenly, all thoughts of Hermione and Ron and Malfoy flew out of Harry's mind as he reached out to touch Ginny's cheek gently.

The next morning at breakfast, Ginny and Harry watched Hermione and Malfoy carefully. They both noticed that both of them looked particularly dishevelled that morning, and Hermione came in a lot later than usual.

"Morning, Herm!" Ron called to her as she swept very ungracefully down to the Gryffindor table.

"Hi Ron, Harry." Said Hermione, determinedly not looking at the Slytherin table and planting herself between the two boys.

Ron welcomed her eagerly with a wet kiss on the lips, which was received with a lot of wolf whistles from any onlookers, which included some of the Slytherins on Malfoy's table. Hermione inwardly rejoiced, as she knew he had seen the kiss '_he SO cares,'_ she told herself triumphantly.

Malfoy, however, was in the middle of convincing himself he didn't care by allowing Pansy to flirt very obviously with him across the table. She kept leaning forward in what, he was sure, she thought was a seductive manner, but she kept putting her elbow in a blob of jam on the table. Out of the corner of his eye, Malfoy noticed Ron give Hermione a kiss, but it didn't bother him because he also noticed that she did not look happy. He smirked to himself as he though of the night before _'she's so desperate for me to care,' _he told himself, happily.

The Library was in complete darkness late that night, except for one solitary lamp in the middle of the room where Hermione sat, trying to drown her thoughts in piles of books. She had long since finished every piece of homework she could find and was now resorting to trying to teach herself obscure cleaning spells.

_How to clean under the oven when you have Orkaks_

Completely useless, Hermione doubted Orkaks even existed as she turned another page of '_Obscure Household Pests and How to Winkle Em Out'._

_How to kill and prepare surprisingly tasty pests_

'_Who _writes _this rubbish?'_ Hermione pondered aloud to herself. Besides being ridiculous, the book was not taking her mind off Malfoy, so she resolved to just go up to the Gryffindor dorms and sleep in Ginny's room or something for the night.

As she took the book back to its shelf, she heard the large oak doors open and shut. This surprised and scared her, as no one was allowed in there so late except for her and…

'_Malfoy.'_

She waited silently in the Household Magic section, peering between books to see if Malfoy was heading her way. Her breathing quickened as she could hear someone getting closer, but she couldn't see a thing.

All of a sudden, two strong hands placed themselves firmly on her waist, and Hermione's heart almost exploded with a mixture of shock, excitement and nervousness.

"Hello Granger," Whispered Malfoy huskily.

"Hello Malfoy," Hermione replied, her voice unnaturally soft.

"I suppose you're wondering why I followed you down here…" Said Malfoy, rolling his eyes.

"Yes…the thought did cross my mind." Replied Hermione; still uncomfortably aware that Malfoy still had one hand on her waist.

"Simply because I'm sure I'm right." Stated Malfoy arrogantly, a steely glint in his grey eyes.

"Oh? What about?"

"You. You want me to care so badly."

"So you say."

"So, you admit it?"

"No, I don't! I'm with Ron and I care about him. You're just looking for an excuse to stir you…you nasty boy." Said Hermione, trying to sound threatening but she really just sounded like a hysterical kitten.

"Listen to yourself Granger; you're not even convincing yourself."

"Yeah, well, you know what I think? I think you're jealous of Ron."

"And why would I be jealous of that poor, red scalped squib?"

"Because you'll never have me."

Malfoy was silent for a second, completely taken back at this bold reply from one so small and bushy.

"What makes you say that?" Asked Malfoy shiftily, taking his hands abruptly off her waist and combing back his hair with a trembling hand. "You know, for your information, _mudblood_, I don't need you."

"Oh, so we're back to that are we? That's dead mature." Hermione replied impatiently, turning away from Malfoy, down the aisle.

"That's all you have to say, then, is it?" He called after her.

"I don't think there's anything else to say." She replied angrily, stopping but not turning around.

"Fine, lie to yourself, but don't pretend like you don't know what's going on here." Said Malfoy impatiently, trying to entice a fresh conversation.

"And what exactly do you think is going on Malfoy?" Hermione retorted, feeling her blood boil slightly, but at the same time her cheeks flushed guiltily.

A strong hand grabbed her waist and spun her round, and suddenly, Hermione and Malfoy's lips met with an almighty crash. Her eyes popped open in protest and her hands pathetically scrabbled at his chest, but Malfoy's hands simply held onto her waist more tightly.

And then gradually Hermione sank into the kiss. Her eyes closed. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

Right then, he knew he could deny everything until kingdom come, but in was undeniable that there was something there. Exactly what that something was or what had happened to create that something was undefined. Did something have to come from something, could it come from nothing, or had that something always been there?

So there they stood, two sworn enemies holding onto each other in the darkness of the library. And, unlike with Ron, Hermione saw fireworks behind her blissful eyelids.

AN: I really hope that wasn't too corny! Please review, people!


	16. A Secret Failure

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of his little friends. Just this plot line perhaps, if I'm lucky.

Hello readers! Sorry it's been a while, inspiration's been running a bit dry recently, but I'm trying to get back on track. Don't stop reading and reviewing for me – I'm very open to suggestions. Thanks a lot, here's chapter 16.

A Secret Failure

_Unicorn mane hair…toadstool…Unicorn mane hair…toadstool…_

Harry repeated these few ingredients over and over in his head as he perused through hundreds of dusty potions tomes…searching. Searching for a sign, a clue, even just a whiff as to what this mysterious potion was that Malfoy seemed to be surreptitiously brewing.

_Unicorn hair…toadstool…Unicorn hair…toadstool…_

After hours of tediously turning the thick parchment pages of many out-of-date medieval commentaries on useless potions, potions of which would be no attraction to a Malfoy, Harry was about ready to give up. But then something caught Harry's eye as he flipped through _'Potions Which Ensnare the Mind'_. His eyes widened like big green-rimmed saucers as he read the description.

_The Love Potion (or Aphrodite Acidalia Serum)_

_This potion, if brewed properly, will have an infatuating effect on the consumer. The consumer will fall into a deep ardour for its brewer, the strength of this feeling; however can be controlled by the amount of unicorn hair used. Brew carefully at risk of permanent brain-damage._

Amongst the ingredients to be used (many of which sounded very hard to come by) were unicorn mane hair and an obscure sounding fungus. Harry was sure Snape's cupboard would be one of the only places to come across these obscure tools, and his heart beat rapidly with fear and fury when the realisation of the situation dawned on him.

_Is Malfoy forcing a false love onto our poor Hermione?_

It certainly explained a lot.

Rain crashed from the skies as the Slytherin team swooped gracefully through the air on their brooms. Draco angrily wiped a few rogue raindrops that had escaped into his eyes, thus impairing his vision, with the sleeve of his Quidditch robes. He despised flying in conditions like these, and considering the collective IQ of his block-headed team mates, he had a feeling he would be out practising for a good few more hours through the torrents of rain.

Draco was well aware that the Gryffindor team was decidedly weaker since they had lost many of their best players, and saw it as the perfect opportunity to beat them like they'd never been beaten before. Quidditch practises for the Slytherin team were now practically daily, whatever the weather. The sky could burst open with quaffle-sized hail stones, and Draco wouldn't dare call off the session. And he certainly wasn't going to allow Blaise Zabini, the new team captain, make all the decisions.

_I should be Slytherin Quidditch Captain _he thought to himself, every time Zabini barked out commands to him. _This moron doesn't know what he's bloody talking about _his brain bitched as he angrily swerved his broom into the position Blaise was pointing to.

_I'll show Potter_

"Malfoy, we're releasing the snitch, stop arsing about and bloody catch it, alright?" Blaise sneered from the ground as he let go of the struggling snitch.

Malfoy clenched his teeth and gripped his broom tightly.

_I'll show that thick red-haired prat who's the best_

Raindrops never ceased to fall into his face, there was a little stream running down from his hair, between his eyes and down his nose, dripping off the end.

_I'll show her_

A glint of gold from below, through the sheets of rain.

_I'll show her_

He went into a sharp dive, still gripping the broom tightly.

_I'll show her whose scum_

His arm extended towards the snitch.

_I'll give her something to regret_

His fingers reached out to clasp the snitch.

_She'll regret regretting kissing me_

And he flew abruptly out of the dive.

_She'll be back soon_

And he swooped back up, the snitch struggling in his palm.

Hermione adjusted the end of her telescope, to focus in on a particularly large red fiery planet with a slightly amber tinge to it. _Venus._ Carefully she began to write down its position, when someone barged straight into her, knocking her lens off course.

"Be careful where you're – oh, Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked, surprised to see a rather nervous look Harry staring at her worriedly through two round lenses of his own.

"Could I talk to you in private?" Harry begged urgently, indicating to the door.

"We can just leave; we're in the middle of a lesson, Harry!" Hermione argued, wondering what could be so important to leave a lesson for.

"It's nearly over, seriously Hermione; Professor Sinastra won't notice we're gone!" He persuaded earnestly, a pleading look shining in his emerald green eyes.

Hermione looked down at her chart, which was almost finished, neatly filled in with her small, delicate writing. It would be easy for her to catch up and fill in the empty spaces; she was, after all, one of the best students in her Astronomy class. Finally, she relented, packed away her little silver telescope, slung her bag over her shoulder and followed Harry out of the North Tower.

"This had better be important, Harry." Hermione warned him, her heart beating rather fast as she wondered what Harry wanted to talk to her about. Her soul begged invisible forces silently that Harry wasn't confronting her about the incident that made her cheeks burn with regret.

"Well, you see, now don't get mad, but….recently Ron and I have been following Malfoy, tracking his whereabouts with the Marauders Map and-"

"Why?" Hermione's could feel her heart beating with vigour in her throat.

"It's not important." Harry evaded, not meeting Hermione's eyes.

"Well, if it's anything to do with me, I think it is!" Hermione retorted, her palms beginning to sweat as her mind replayed Malfoy's disturbingly silver eyes coming closer to hers.

"It's just that…Ron was worried he was coming on to you…so we were checking up on him…" Harry replied, hoping that he'd explained enough.

"On him? On _me_ you mean." Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously at Harry "Do you really trust me that little, Potter?"

Harry winced at the use of his last name, but brushed it off quickly, he had something far more important to tell Hermione.

"Look, Hermione, will you please hear me out?" At this she opened her mouth to make a scathing reply, but Harry stared straight into her indignant eyes, and she simply nodded. "Ron and I began following Malfoy because we don't trust him, and it's even more important to keep tabs on him now he's Head Boy. That's it."

"Alright, well, if that's it, I'm off to bed." Hermione replied coolly, her heart still beating loudly, wild worries flooding through her mind.

"No, I'm afraid not. You see…Malfoy's up to something." Hermione flushed red "He's brewing a potion…and well…I have reason to believe it's a love potion."

"A _love potion_? Malfoy? You must be joking, Harry." Hermione replied, sounding sceptical, but feeling very uneasy. Something clicked painfully inside.

"I wish I was…I have reasonable evidence to believe this is what he's been brewing – I've seen some of the ingredients he's using, and I've even seen him brewing the damn thing. Hermione, please, please believe me!" Harry begged, desperate that Hermione wouldn't leave thinking she was safe.

"I…you must be wrong."

"It's ok, Hermione, it's not your fault. Just be careful and don't accept any food or drink from him. Please be careful." Harry pleaded sincerely, taking Hermione's hand briefly and squeezing it.

"Does Ron think the same as you?" Hermione asked, her voice quivering with worry.

"No, he doesn't know. And I plan on keeping it that way. Honestly, I never believed you were cheating on him but…" Harry tailed off.

"But what?"

"Nothing, forget it." Harry's mind swam with uncertainty. This was _Hermione_. She'd never cheat on Ron, or even _consider _it. But it was very apparent things weren't entirely…right. "I've got to go to Quidditch practice now – promise me you'll keep in mind what I said?"

"Yes Harry. I'll take care of myself."

Harry smiled at his friend warmly, before heaving a large sigh of relief and turning to leave, and as he did so, he didn't notice the light in Hermione's eyes slowly fade out.

_Maybe kissing Malfoy wasn't as natural as she had thought._

To Draco's annoyance and confusion, Hermione had been avoiding him extremely carefully since their eventful evening, and he had begun to wonder if he'd imagined it all. Frequently he'd find himself staring angrily at her head during his lessons, willing her to turn round and say something – _anything_ – to him. He convinced himself he didn't care that much – he just missed calling her 'mudblood' and their good old arguments. It was easier to carry on obsessing over her that way.

As a result of this recurrent distraction, Draco found his marks slipping even more than ever. It worried him less and less, as he knew he had a safety net…but the idea of cheating had began to make him feel uneasy. Now every time he entered the empty dungeon he had been using to brew his potion in, he felt sick looking at the contents of his cauldron. He'd made the potion well, but there was something about the way it bubbled and hissed that made him feel uneasy. The bubbles dancing on the surface of the potion were laughing at him, the heated misty liquid beneath was roaring with mirth at his expense. Cheating was really forcing Draco to see the truth: he was a failure.

But a secret failure.

"This year is our year, Gryffindor; I know it, which is why our Quidditch practices will be as often as is humanly possible." Harry expressed to his team mates before Quidditch practice that day. He was desperate that his new team would beat Slytherin – and considering many of his new players weren't very experienced, he had a lot of work on his hands as the new team Captain.

All his players were good in some way, but all had their difficulties. Ginny was a great aim, and certainly had a lot of flair on the pitch… but had some difficulty with intercepting the Quaffle. Dean wasn't a spectacular chaser, but he was much better than any of the other tryouts, so Harry forced himself to believe Dean would improve with training. Demelza Robins, his new chaser, definitely had no trouble shooting the ball through the hoops but had a bit of a temper problem (and, incidentally, was not allowed near the beater's bats as a result). Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke, the two new beaters, were great at swinging the bat, regardless of what it hit, but didn't work together well, and had absolutely nothing on Fred and George Weasley.

And finally, there was Ron. Ron could make some truly amazing saves, when he wasn't under too much pressure, but Harry feared that a game against Slytherin might be a nail in Ron's coffin. The jeers from the Slytherins were often too hard for him to handle, and Harry noted with worry that Ron's fury with Malfoy might distract him during the game.

Telling Ron about the potion was out of the question, Harry decided, as he saw him make a dramatic save through a barrel roll at the far left ring. He couldn't chance Ron losing this talent, losing the game, over an affair that, apparently, only existed as a suspicion.

_Nothing's gong to happen to Hermione _Harry assured himself. _She can look after herself, at least until this match is out of the way._

Hermione had recently been spending a lot of time in the North Tower, studying the stars through her telescope. She had never really taken much of an interest in astronomy, until recently, as she found the tower a very convenient get away, and a very effective distraction, to forget all the events that had been surrounding her recently. Ron had been so caught up with Quidditch that she was quite sure he wasn't about to come looking for her. And Malfoy…he obviously hadn't bothered to come looking for her. Hermione noted with alarm that this irritated her immensely, she was so sure he would be desperate to discuss recent…happenings with her. Or at least explain himself, but no. Nothing.

She frowned disconcertedly as she studied Venus through her lens. It had been particularly vivid in the skies recently, and she observed with wonder that, this particular evening, it could easily be seen without help. It was just there, in the clear skies, burning passionately, smiling back down at Hermione as she watched it alone.

_1:00am. Time to get back to the Head Quarters _Hermione decided, loading her telescope back into her bag. "Malfoy's probably in bed by now." She mused aloud.

"Wrong, Granger." A sneering voice replied silkily from behind her. Hermione froze, her heart jumping wildly in her chest.

"Malfoy?" She asked, knowing the answer before she turned around to see Draco standing nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets, the moonlight reflecting on his blonde locks, making them appear silver.

"Correct."

"How did you find me?" Hermione asked, her voice shuddering with anticipation as he took a step towards her.

"Goyle saw you coming up here after dinner." He replied simply, taking another step towards her, his expression unreadable.

"So…why are you here?"

"I needed to set something straight with you. The…incident."

Hermione bit her lip guiltily, flushing slightly pink "Oh…that."

"You see, Granger, I am a pureblood, and my situation forbids me to think of you as anything better than a mudblood. Filth." Malfoy hissed advancing further towards Hermione, who backed away angrily, he fists clenching at the word 'mudblood'. "However, I seem to have trouble keeping this in perspective recently."

"Oh my heart bleeds, look, Malfoy, _you _kissed _me_. My blood has nothing to do with this, so don't you DARE blame all of this simply on my supposed 'imperfections'." Hermione was slowly tuning crimson with rage, her whole body tensing up as she noticed that Malfoy was getting alarmingly close again.

"If I recall correctly, you kissed me back." Said Malfoy coolly, a sly smirk creeping onto his face.

"I want to know why, Malfoy."

Draco fell silent. It irked him greatly that he should have to hear this question again, after he'd replayed it so often in his mind. _Why._

"Because…I was confused." This was the only answer he could come up with. Pitiful. Pit-i-ful.

"Confused? Confused with what?"

"With why a pureblood like me could possibly want to kiss a mudblood like you."

"Well, next time you're _confused_, I suggest you go and find Pansy Parkinson, and stay the hell away from me!" Hermione almost screamed, grabbing her bag and attempting to push past Malfoy, who, in a moment of clarity, just let her go.

Now, standing alone, Draco stood at the edge of the tower, staring down on the grounds. Inhaling the sharp cold air deeply, he tried to cleanse himself of the dirty-blooded girl he couldn't keep seem to keep his thoughts away from.

_Just let her go. _His mind repeated. _She's nothing. She's just…Granger. Just Hermione._


	17. She Bites Her Lip

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is in no way shape or form or form or shape mine

Read and review if you wish to.

She Bites Her Lip

Late the next evening, Draco sat in the Head Quarters Common Room clutching his hair in a tight fist angrily as his eyes scanned his Arithmacy homework. Recently, evenings had been the only times Draco could set aside for work, as every other waking (and often sleeping) hour was spent on Quidditch. The numbers he was staring at were blurs, the charts and graphs were a jumbled ocean of lines and symbols that seemed to do an irritating dance across the page as he tried to decipher them. His knuckles had begun to turn bright white as he locked his grip on his silver locks, so tightly that the hairs began to pinch his skull.

"Argh!" Draco grunted in frustration and threw his quill down. Looking up at the large calendar Hermione had put on the wall, he could see the date of the NEWTs looming ever closer, written in shimmering ink in Hermione's petit handwriting. Well, not close…but close enough to make Draco's intestines feel like snakes, ready to burst out of his troubled gut.

But there was always the potion…however recently he had been feeling more and more doubtful about using it…What if something went wrong? What if someone found out?

However, in his mind's eye he could see the consequences of inevitable failure if he didn't use the potion. He could see his fellow Slytherins jeering at him, mocking him, the whole school knowing that all his intellectual bravado was just a show. He could see his father's cold stare boring into him, renouncing him for bringing such shame to the Malfoy name. The he saw Granger, staring at him her big hazel eyes dulled with disappointment, biting her lip the way she does when she looks at him sometimes, and shaking her head slightly.

Suddenly he became very aware of the pain his fist was causing on his scalp and released his hair from his grip. He couldn't seem to get the image of Granger out of his head, and suddenly he was sure, he had no alternative.

Just then, as Draco had begun to pack up his books, Hermione walked in, dark circles looming in a slightly ghostly manner around her eyes, the product of an unsuccessful night's sleep. As she saw Malfoy studying at the table, she glared at the back of his head, recounting the previous night's meeting with distaste. Briskly, she marched towards the portrait, eager not to have to speak to Malfoy, or even look him in the eye, but still expected him to call after her all the same. He didn't.

Hermione arrived in the Great Hall for dinner and sat between Harry and Ron at the end of the Gryffindor table. She was greeted by Ron with an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek, which left a small wet patch on her cheek. Surreptitiously she tried to wipe it off with her robe sleeve, knowing inwardly that the wet patch wasn't the problem here, and that soon she would have to bring this charade to a close. But it was too early in the morning for such dynamic thoughts, therefore instead of saying a word, Hermione settled for a vacant smile.

"Sorry I haven't been around much recently, it's just with Quidditch practices for the game tomorrow and all…" Said Ron apologetically, turning his two big dopey eyes to Hermione.

"Oh, that's alright Ron; I know how important Quidditch is to you." Hermione replied serenely, secretly singing joyful praises to the inventor of Quidditch who had provided her with many days of solace away from Ron.

"But you're important to me too Hermione, look, I'll make up for everything after the match." Ron reassured in what he thought was a very tactful way.

"No, really, it's ok." Hermione replied, slightly irritated, wishing Ron would continue is discussion on tactics with Harry.

"It's not though! I want to spend time with you, you know that don't you?" Said Ron animatedly, interpreting Hermione's apathy as anger and reproach.

"Yes, I know that, look, it's alright!" Said Hermione sharply, her temper roused slightly as a result of a bad night's sleep.

"You…you do want to spend time with me, don't you?" Ron asked unsurely, reaching out to touch Hermione's shoulder.

"Of course she does, don't you Hermione?" Harry interrupted quickly, worried that if he didn't, Hermione might have said something she would regret.

"Yes…yes of course I do." Hermione lied through her teeth softly, while slowly opening up a steaming roast potato and shovelling a scorching hot piece into her deceitful mouth.

The day passed uneventfully, everyone seemed to be either very excited about the Quidditch match the following day, or extremely nervous. Uncommonly quickly, the day of the match came along, and it was about 2 hours before the match when the dread of the impending challenge began to hit Ron. Every time Ron passed a Slytherin in the corridors, they would hum the tune to 'Weasley is our King' under their breath, which always produced the results they wanted, and Ron was constantly a sickly shade of green.

"You'll be fine, Ron." Hermione comforted briskly, gently patting Ron's tense arm.

"Yeah, just remember what we discussed after Quidditch practice." Reminded Harry patting Ron on the back in a brotherly way.

"Catch the ball. I remember." Ron croaked turning greener still when he saw Malfoy's smirking form pass in the corridor. Hermione noticed that he looked completely relaxed, and was irritated the he could be so casual after their discussion the night before. Primly, she ignored his stupid smirking face, wishing it would disappear from her thoughts.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" The commentator yelled into his microphone at the start of the game causing both side of the crowd to erupt with resounding cheers, all dressed in their house colours. Immediately, fourteen green and red blurs shot into the sky, and, after a couple of loops and twirls, swerved into position.

"The balls have been released and the players are ready to go! Aaaaand…Gryffindor intercepts the ball – Ginny Weasley is doing some spectacular flying there…" And so it went on. Slytherin eventually intercepted the Quaffle after Goyle bolted a Bludger towards Ginny almost knocking her off her broom, and then, as he was laughing moronically, he almost got knocked out by his own bat. The Chasers on either team seemed to be of equal ability and the scores kept levelling out. Every so often one would score a point and be 10 points up, and then the other team would score again and equalise. There seemed to be very little movement from the Seekers, who never seemed to catch any sight of the snitch at all. The only bit of excitement seemed to be when Kirke sent a Bludger the wrong way (how he managed this, no one could quite work out) and managed to hit Ron square between the eyes.

Ron had managed quite well, despite the raging chorus of mocking tune from the Slytherin side. He managed to make a couple of good saves, and the green tinge seemed to be slowly turning back to his normal colour.

Malfoy looked pretty unruffled below, and every now and again would join in singing with the other Slytherins, smirking round at the Gryffindor team. He didn't, however, seem to be doing much out of the pitch, as the snitch was nowhere to be seen.

Slowly, the crowd began to bore of this all, and the sun seemed to be setting very quickly.

Hermione, however, remained deeply engrossed in the game, desperate that Gryffindor would win. _That would show Malfoy_, she thought to herself, smirking at the thought of Harry beating him yet again.

As the sky darkened and it was far past the first years' bed time, McGonagall's voice boomed out onto the pitch.

"As it is late, and I'm sure you're all ready for you're bed, I think we should continue this game tomorrow at 3. Please exit the pitch in an orderly fashion."

After everyone had left, Hermione stood by the Quidditch changing rooms outside in the dark. This chilled wind was laced with a scent she couldn't quite place, and she hugged her body tightly as it whipped her face.

It had been about half an hour since the end of the game, and Harry and Ron hadn't yet come out of the building, and Hermione was beginning to get impatient. Inside she convinced herself she was waiting to see how Ron was recuperating after his blow to the head, he was, after all, her boyfriend, who she certainly did care about a lot…but there was definitely an ulterior motive for her whereabouts that night.

Just as she gave up waiting and turned to leave, a familiar voice which sent tingles down her spine echoed in her ears.

"Granger, you're loitering." He growled casually, leaning against the wall beside her, one eyebrow raised in amusement at her slightly surprised expression.

Hermione struggled to contort her face into an irritated expression. "Actually, I was going back to my bedroom." She retorted primly.

"Oh, I see. So why are still here then?" Malfoy replied slyly, smirking at her in an infuriatingly satisfied way.

"Good question. Goodnight Malfoy." She answered, coolly, blushing a little bit as she noticed Malfoy's eyes giving her the 'once-over'. To save her last shred of dignity, she turned away from him and began striding towards the castle, her head held as high as she could manage.

But Malfoy couldn't resist following after her. He loved making her blush, and didn't intend to stop anytime soon, as it elevated his bad mood incredibly. He quickly jogged up to her side and kept stride with her, glancing at her big hazel eyes for a moment, which he saw, to his amusement, avoided looking at him at all costs.

"So…how's Weasel-extraordinaire? Getting his face rearranged by Madame Pomfrey? Merlin knows he needed it…" Malfoy drawled, smirking when he saw Hermione fuming, but she made no retort.

"Oh I get it. Ignore the nasty boy, Granger." Malfoy teased nudging her playfully, his smirk widening as he heard her make a 'huffing' sound.

There was a long silence and slowly Malfoy's mind swam with memories of their last meeting. No wonder Hermione wasn't talking back to him as she usually would, he must have really offended her.

"Look, Granger, if the reason for your painful silence is what I said last night, I meant no offence." Malfoy explained grudgingly, irritated that he had to be accountable for his actions. All he got in reply, however, was a louder 'huff', which irked him greatly. Why should he be making such an effort to talk to a mere _mudblood_?

"Fine. Be like that then. I'm not wasting my time with you anymore, I'm off." He snapped shortly, speeding up.

"You can't just DO that, Malfoy!" Hermione called to him exasperatedly, stopping him in his tracks.

"Well, you didn't want to talk to me so…" Malfoy tailed off

"That's not what I meant, and you know it _Malfoy_." She spat like an angry cat, "You can't be perfectly horrid one minute and then be all normal – nice almost and then…and then…"

"And then what?"

"I think I know." Hermione evaded, blushing, noticing that Malfoy was moving closer to her, his blonde hair turning a ghostly silver colour in the moonlight, his smirk fading from his face. Hermione shivered again as he looked down on her with an unreadable expression, and suddenly she felt a patch of warm on her waist. His hand.

"Something like this?" He whispered softly, his voice deep, husky almost.

Hermione sighed, it felt nice, it really did. But all too soon her head snapped back to reality, she remembered herself – she had a boyfriend after all - and slapped Malfoy's hand away.

"Stop it!"

"Ok, suit yourself then." Malfoy sneered flippantly, his voice still slightly husky, and he started to walk back towards the castle.

Hermione watched his retreating back confusedly, why wasn't he arguing? Did he really see her as another Pansy Parkinson? "No wait." She called to him quickly.

"Look, mudblood, I'm not here at your personal disposal!" He barked impatiently, digging his hands deep into his pockets.

At the word 'mudblood', Hermione felt her blood boil again. "For goodness' sake, Malfoy! Why does it always come down to that…that degrading name? Don't you care at all?" She shouted, her fists curled into little balls, her knuckles white and raw.

"Well, it suits you." He retorted immaturely, feeling almost immediately that he shouldn't have said so.

"You are the most disgusting – cowardly -" Hermione struggled to find the words for Malfoy's crime, but as she did so, Malfoy did something she really wasn't expecting.

He grabbed her waist again, this time with both hands, ignoring her pathetic protests, and held on tightly. She looked up at him as he pulled her close with an expression of fright mixed with anxiety mixed with…something else. He didn't know what that something else was, but it drove him crazy. It was that something which drove him to hook one arm around her waist and pull her up so her face was level with his and his lips crashed down on hers…again.

Hermione felt completely powerless in his grip and her arms slowly and automatically began to snake themselves around his neck for support. Her heart was beating a frantic tune against her ribcage as she frantically kissed him back, not quite knowing why.

Eventually the kiss ended and Malfoy's mouth crept round the side of her head and growled in her ear.

"What were you saying?"

Hermione's head was still spinning, knowing that what she had just done was wrong on so many levels that it was completely out of character. Full of guilt she bit her lip tentatively, the way she does when she looks at him sometimes, not knowing how to reply, as she really couldn't remember what she had been saying.

"I – I -" Was all that seemed to be able to come out of her mouth at that point. Malfoy looked at her, annoyed at her lack of response and let go of her waist, but before he could turn away from her, Hermione threw caution into the wind and did something she never saw herself doing. She flung her arms back around his neck.


	18. Red Handed

Disclaimer: I'm not claiming any sort of ownership to Harry Potter. Although I'm sure he'd love to belong to me and make me rich.

Sorry I've kept you all waiting! I had a major case of writer's block, and might have given up if it wasn't for your reviews…Hope you like my final effort!

Red Handed

The moon controls the tides, when they come in and go out, when they beat the shore with froth, making curved patterns in the sand. That night it washed over the grounds like a cool calm sea wave, making patterns on the trees, on the lawn, on the only two people standing out there that night. The air was almost salty, dense with a kind of awkwardness, mysteriousness, a bittersweet night. And though it was silent except for the faint echo of the world outside, the silence was thick, overpowering like it wasn't real. The kind of silence in which you just know – something has just happened.

After the game, all the players but one had left the pitch. One scarlet figure, Ginny Weasley, remained in the skies, weaving through the goal posts on her Comet 260, diving and swooping through the cold night air. Her red hair flew out behind her like a candle in the wind as she flew out in the grounds alone. Or so she thought.

As she hurtled across the pitch towards the changing rooms, she saw two figures standing outside of it, having some sort of argument. As she flew in closer, one of the figures was unmistakable; the silver blonde hair could have been identified miles away. Draco Malfoy seemed to be striding away from a dark haired girl, who Ginny couldn't identify because she could only see her back, and then stop in his tracks completely. Something was said, and suddenly the two figures were close again – closer still as Malfoy slid one arm around the girl's waist.

Ginny giggled as she saw their lips meet, wondering what bimbo Malfoy had snagged this time. Out of curiosity, Ginny deftly flew around the couple at a distance and squinted at the girl. She could just about spot a red scarf around her neck, and began to wonder what Gryffindor girl in her right mind would kiss Draco Malfoy! Suddenly, it hit her like a sledge hammer, as she recalled a conversation with Harry only weeks before.

"_It's Malfoy, isn't it?" Asked Harry, inwardly dreading Ginny's answer._

Hermione and Malfoy. Sure enough, Ginny could see the bushiness of Hermione's hair. Unmistakable. Her mind swam with confusion – Ron had to find out about this, didn't he? She narrowed her eyebrows in consternation and decided on her own plan of action.

Breathlessly, Malfoy and Hermione pulled apart. For a few seconds they stood there, breathing heavily, like the world had paused for a second, so did their lives. Her dark haired form contrasted almost eerily against his silvery one, the breeze rippling her hair, while his remained perfectly still. They remained perfectly still and for those few seconds there was nothing else. But since when does that ever last.

Hermione blinked, and as she closed her eyes to Malfoy and the events of that evening, she opened them again to reality. Ron. Sneer. Hate. Mudblood. Suddenly her breathing was regular; suddenly everything was all too clear. Her hands abruptly pulled themselves from his neck and she stepped back from him, still staring into his eyes, except this time with an expression of pure horror on her face, her lips still tingling.

Malfoy's breathing was having trouble slowing down. His chest rose and fell quickly like he had a knot in his windpipe. He couldn't seem to muster a witty comment or a smirk, everything just seemed so distorted. His mind raced with what just happened – with what he did, with what she did. He noticed vaguely that her arms had left his neck as where there had been a comfortable warm patch was now replaced with the cold of the evening. And then just as quickly as the warmth had left his neck, he saw the expression on her face. Her eyes wide with horror.

"What did you do that for, Malfoy?" She hissed, her cheeks flushing angrily.

"I could ask the same of you, Granger." He replied coolly, smoothing back his hair with one hand as a small wisp had fallen into his face.

"Ron's in there you know. He'll be out here any moment." She said, pretending not to hear his reply, pointing at the changing room door.

"Don't tell me you're worried abut _that _git." Malfoy retorted sarcastically, a note of bitterness in his voice. "We wouldn't want to break Weasley's big fat bleeding heart now would we? Don't worry _Granger _I wont tell your boyfriend what I – I mean _we_ – did."

Hermione chewed on her lip tentatively as she looked at the door. It was a nice door, scarlet for Gryffindor house with a lion painted in the centre. And it was then that she realised that the door excited her more than the person behind it. She looked back from the door to Malfoy, and her pulse steadily began to increase. Angry with herself she tried to come up with some sort of retort or scathing reply, but she couldn't come up with anything. What was the point?

"Aren't you going to tell me how horrible and evil I am?" Asked Malfoy amusedly, smirking down at her.

"No. I was just thinking." Hermione replied softly, not looking at him.

"Hah, stranger things have happened I suppose. What about?" He inquired, one eyebrow raised.

"The irony of this situation."

Malfoy chuckled gruffly, "I suppose you never saw yourself kissing me while your boyfriend not to mention close friend is right next door. Right?"

"Never even crossed my mind." Said Hermione.

The two parted ways quickly, guiltily, hoping that they hadn't been seen. Hermione rushed up towards Hogwarts, when suddenly someone stepped out of the shadows in front of her. Hermione let out a shriek of alarm, but then relaxed when she recognised the petit redhead standing in front of her.

"Ginny, you gave me a fright!" Hermione exclaimed, clutching her heart. "What are you doing still out here?"

"I could ask the same of you actually." Ginny replied slightly coldly, one eyebrow raised.

"Well…I was waiting for Ron, obviously." Hermione answered, trying to look nonchalant, a little taken aback at Ginny's coldness.

"Really? And you thought the best way to pass the time was to stay attached to Draco Malfoy's lips?" Ginny bellowed, her face glowing scarlet, so red you couldn't tell where her face ended and her hair began.

Hermione's eyes were wide for a second. Her heart hammered, but seemed to stop at the same time. She tensed up, trying to think of an excuse, an explanation – something – but nothing came to mind. She was caught.

"You…saw?" She finally managed to stutter.

"That's right. I saw. What were you thinking?" Ginny bellowed again, more loudly this time.

"Will you keep down your voice?" Hermione hissed, looking around wildly to check if anyone had heard.

"Why? Worried Ron – _your boyfriend _­ might hear that his supposedly loving girlfriend cheating with on him with his nemesis?" Ginny spat, disgustedly.

"And you think you're going to help things by telling the whole world?" Hermione retorted angrily. "If you want to talk about this, can we do it somewhere else so I can explain? Will you let me explain?"

"I don't see that there's much to explain. It looked pretty straightforward from where I was standing. I don't think I could have fit a piece of parchment between you two. That's closer than I've ever seen you with my brother." Ginny replied coldly, but sighed

"Please, Ginny…don't tell Ron. Let me explain." Hermione pleaded eyes wide with fright when Ginny mentioned Ron again.

"Alright. But this had better be good."

Draco Malfoy made his way up to the Slytherin Common Room, his mind not really focused, his feet taking him a familiar route up the winding stone stair case. Up the stone stairs into the flickering light of the common room torches, light reflecting eerily from the silver spangled Slytherin banners hanging from the walls. Empty bottles, cans and mess everywhere were all that was left of the Slytherin celebrations after the match, even though no one had officially won yet. Draco sat back in one of the large green sofas his mind blank as he stared at the large portrait of Salazar Slytherin on the wall above the fireplace. It might have been the heat of the room, or Draco's exhaustion, but he could have sworn he saw Salazar mouth the words _'Pureblood Traitor' _at him.

"Draco? That you?" Came a husky-sounding voice from behind him.

"Yeah." Draco turned around to see Pansy standing behind him, wearing what seemed to be a very small green slip, which he supposed she wore in bed.

"Want some company?" Pansy asked with a suggestive smirk on her face, tugging on the lacy rim of her slip.

Draco thought for a second. "Yeah. Yeah I would." And he watched as Pansy walked round the sofa and sat down next to him.

"Are you OK? You look stressed." She asked silkily, sliding one hand up his arm.

"I don't feel like talking." Draco replied shortly, with a quick sideways glance at Pansy, who smiled a sickly sweet smile at him.

"We don't have to _talk, _Draco…" She whispered, leaning towards him.

"Look, it wasn't what it looked like." Said Hermione, once she and Ginny had found a secluded corner in the Library to talk.

Ginny raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"OK, point taken."

"Hermione, I've suspected something for a while if you want to know the truth. I suspected, but I never thought…"

"It just happened, Gin, I didn't plan it. It's like I got dragged along in some cosmic undertow or something, and it's getting harder to get out." Said Hermione breathlessly, inwardly wondering what exactly _had _happened.

"But it's _Draco Malfoy_. Things don't 'just happen' with him. Besides – you're with _Ron_. What's going on? Do you even _like _Ron that way?" Ginny asked. There were just so many questions to ask.

"Yes. No. I mean, yes. I don't know, Gin. I thought I might, I mean, we've been friends for years and all that…but…"

"Shouldn't you have broken up with him? Told him how you feel? Or, I don't know, not have started dating him?" Ginny retorted, gesturing emphatically with her hands.

"It just seemed like the natural thing to do, I mean, we'd sort of been moving that way for a long time now. I think everyone was expecting it, and I didn't have a reason to say no…except that I didn't feel the way I thought I did about him." Said Hermione, with a sigh.

"And Malfoy?"

"I don't know. It's hard to explain. It's such a bizarre and slightly horrifying situation; sometimes I think I dreamed it all up. I mean, I wish I had, I really do. I don't like him anymore, he's still a foul ferret, but sometimes I'm just drawn to him. I can't explain it. He'll say or do something, and I won't be able to help myself. It doesn't make any sense at all, but there it is." Hermione rambled, talking very quickly, her mind in a fug.

"What are you going to do, Herm?" Ginny asked, her tone a lot more gentle.

"I don't know. I think…I think that I should talk to Ron. I think I'm going to have to end it…he shouldn't have to put up with this anymore." Hermione said, her voice sure-sounding.

"You're probably right. Be gentle with him." Said Ginny "So…you don't have feelings for Malfoy?"

"Merlin, no."


End file.
